
; 3a glgl! gBa ^^ ^ 


j qqggg 




FT MEADE 

GenCol 1 










w 


*3 >• ^ 






X J' ' 


cA ^ 

/y// 

'-gy// 


y > 
s 

s 

A 

* H 1 

A 

IS- 

1 

•Cl 

r 

•>V 


A* 

2 ? ° 

/; t: 

A 

$ 



‘\ ^ -A o 
* . ,-> 



•fc- ^ 

° -~'o\\* ^ k <. **i~7i s s \^ , \o 

-0^ c 0 N c * ^ .*"* 4 * b r ^ 


^ ■*> .- -r- , 

N \ A, * 

S <\ 

A\ ^ * V 1 * « ^ 

N A„ 

^ » "oo' ?«S 

'^ ? ° o> U - »£ 

S V^ *^ • «fr «* 

<v*‘ 

) N 


* > * ^yw a z v ^ ~ 
^ ^ : W 3 / " a A V ^ o 



y '^sy*o^ <x O * r£* / ^t'tA * ^ 0 

* .9 N o • ^ ^ * a \ \ C ' S 

+ *C> \} *' *°s > *' , 9 * ' S 

I: ***** :0§^° **'& * 

> s> 


o 

* " V Z 

^ * \*V 

V\ ,r> o 

•’’ V- . V 

-V- - s ry * 

** / c <» A, 

^ c 0 N c * * * <xN a v 1 * * ^ 

<* <0 V ' __M. -I °.-. 



, X° °x. 

% X,..jv^ ! ‘ # ’-^ 

*MS**%'U .v, - 




* C y^> 

* 4 .V ^ 

-4 oV 

y 0 * y * ^C> -r ■’ t 

c & c ° N C * ^ 

0 . * ^ 





* * '' -X^ ,VH, %, ' '"' K 
\ 'S^U^ ^ k \ -y v 

« ^ ^ o o x 

41 ,0 c> * 

> A ✓■ 

°* ^ 0 n 0 ^ \A ^ Hi"' A^‘ C & ± y b ^ 0 * A 

v \*y:'.; > 9N \ 

\ % A'’ * % xv ^ /% 

: •/ < ^- 

^ av v - > '^pjr^ t N 

\0 y , , s s .*\ 'O •> -*> ,(*4 , 

r 0^ c 0 N c ♦ ’<* ^ * V 1 B ^ ^ 0^ t 0 N C -9 '<? ' * * s 

^ k ^vXNVTl^k x <v 


•o 


*v* O 

'”t/ > aV ^ 

«\ > «3 


^ ^ 
>v 


5 ^ ^ - 
5 V 



° ZR> 


; ^ 



,0 o. 




® c A 

<1 V <^C» -> 

^ v - ' * 


y / . s 




r\ 


a a 


V » B 



^ ■<?’ : 



1 ^ a v > 

* x * <* 4 

-O v c 0 N c ft <S> 

0 * f , .. 

*«. cS^sXXAYi'^ ^ '^. •" 



\V ^ o ? v /’V^ ? * 

^ ^ n . ! ^ aO C ' ^ 

* c !JL G % ^ 


° v^ y V 

A °o C 0 ' .‘ V V -f> 

' ' '^A / 





’o' « ’’Wj 

^ V^L , 

* o A o > 

*V ' 

° <Pv <A * 

° z V 

" ^ V< v 

^ <Ki 

\ A c*v 

s S \ \ y 0 

A' * V 1 8 /> ~ 

'* ‘ * t ^ 0° » _ 

"*A ^ 

i J> 


) o. 

y 

S' 

f~> y <1 O ; v 

o. * 0 H o 0 <^ V 

' C‘ V * ' * 0 > , 0 V „ 

S Sp 1* *10.* a TV X 

: *+<f •|\:«Vz ; 

’ f .y> % : IBI' « ,^ v V » 1 


* - V 

^ ^ A oV 

%, " ° * >• * /.«(,<■/,' 

r\V c “ * *v 

C ^ x ^ 

v ^ «f5^V^W ✓ 1 

O 



<>^ V 

o o x 






' *«!■'* ^ 

> o v 

.A" v 

r * ^ C 



- o 5 ^ " 

) . > ,/ >»sj<3r- <1 O l <y * 

x O' ° , ft - O ° s v < ^ 

^ o » On 0 \ x ~i f o f 

’ /, C' V- ^ t 

^ s 'P V R ^ 

; ^ , 






b -V ^ 


•VT«C^* v> •%«. '. * -v v. 

O n V ^ <G S' /y I <s s \' 

0 * K 0 n r; # v. a\ \ m , 

.•p- '• % 


* i 

^ o 0> ^ 

- * . vv " > ^ * _ 

C* y 'XS-i 0 o CL* cK ^ t '^ \ 

..V SM ° , v'%L*^.^ ,, ">^' 






SILENCED BY GOLD 


THE STORY OF 

A WILDCAT WELL 


HARRY H. RANGELER 


THE 

®bbey Press 

PUBLISHERS 

114 

FIFTH AVENUE 

Condon NEW YORK Montreal 



?T-' b ~ 


THE LIBRARY OF 

CONGRESS. 

Two Coptic Rf.cs'ver 

NOV, 4 1992 

©nP^'QHT vrrtn 

JVVM -V.^AVj 

Oi.issCvacxn *<0 

COPY F* 


Copyright, 1902, 
by 

THE 

H b b zy press. 



CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER I. page 

Initiatory 1 

CHAPTER II. 

Lightning and Steam 9 

CHAPTER III. 

“Peaches” 19 

CHAPTER IV. 

Introductory 28 

CHAPTER V. 

A “Reminder” 37 

CHAPTER VI. 

A Jewelled Throne 46 

CHAPTER VII. 

The Making of Friends and Foes 54 

CHAPTER VIII. 

The Queen and Three Courtiers 65 

CHAPTER IX. 

A Woman’s Way 79 

CHAPTER X. 

The Gathering of a Storm 90 


VI 


Contents 


CHAPTER XI. page 

For Love, for Money, or for Both 100 

CHAPTER XII. 

The Storm Breaks Ill 

CHAPTER XIII. 

Cut; the Rope That Held a Life 122 

CHAPTER XIV. 

Gloom 134 

CHAPTER XV. 

The Rocks of Fate 146 

CHAPTER XVI. 

A Hurricane of Death 157 

CHAPTER XVII. 

From the Lips of the Dead 168 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

The Phantom of Success 178 

CHAPTER XIX. 

Through the Shadow, into the Day 190 

CHAPTER XX. 

Preparatory 203 


PREFACE. 


The only proposition whose demonstration is 
attempted in this little story is too well known, 
and too axiomatic in its nature, to require stat- 
ing. 

The author lias endeavored to paint scenes 
familiar to himself, and tell the story of the or- 
dinary life of the people concerned. The vast- 
ness of the industry, and the bubble-like rapidity 
of its growth has added to the interest of the 
public in the men and machinery which carry on 
its trade. To the workers themselves, this free 
life bears a fascination little less than marvellous. 


Vanlue, 0. 















































































































































































» 




■ 














•*ny.. 























































SILENCED BY GOLD 


CHAPTER I. 

INITIATORY. 

“Roll out! It’s twelve o’clock.” 

It seemed to me that I had scarcely been asleep, 
but I obeyed, drew on my clothes, and followed 
the speaker. I seized the filled tin lunch-pail that 
stood on the table prepared for me, and, my com- 
panion taking another, we went forth. 

It was clear and cool and a bright moon hung 
low in the west. We had just begun work at the 
new well on the Cobden Farm. My friend was 
the driller and I the tool-dresser of the morning 
tour. As we walked along that midnight I felt 
very proud of my position. 

I had been heretofore a pumper. Lying all 
alone in the boiler-room, listening to the bark of 


2 


Silenced by Gold. 

the three or four engines under my care, was such 
a lonely situation that I felt like a different man 
as I went to take my place as tool-dresser. I 
never liked to be left entirely alone, as I had been 
when a pumper. The woods and the night are 
so weird and the pulse beat of the engines throb- 
bing through the darkness made me half afraid. 

My ambition was to become a contractor — that 
is, to own a string of tools and operate for the 
large leasing companies. I thought of buying 
out Keller and Company, our contractors, and 
lacked only the money. 

As I went along, I was building bright castles 
in the future, and as yet all seemed very substan- 
tial. Some time, some day, I would be rich, and 
just as finely dressed as Keller. Then I wouldn’t 
have to smear in the greasy fluid, but could sit in a 
rubber-tired buggy and curse the drillers and tool- 
dressers. 

Now we came in sight of the derrick. Dark 
and ghost-like in the torchlight, its frame reared 
itself against the sky. The sound of the drill on 
the hard stone clanged harshly on the silent air. 
The huge steel rod had not yet buried itself in 
the earth, but rang at every stroke. We were 
drilling with a spud-line, and every time the rod 
rose and fell the tall tower quivered to its founda- 
tions. 


Initiatory. 3 

In the field where fifty wells are drilling and 
pumping within earshot, a single one makes lit- 
tle difference; but here in wild-cat territory, with 
no other for miles around, the working of the 
machinery made a noise that was almost unbear- 
able. And, then, to me it was the beginning of 
a new life, of a new hope. My boy’s soul longed 
to be at my work, swinging the great sledge or 
stuffing the roaring furnace. 

When we came up the men who ran evening 
tour stopped their work, and we, donning our drill- 
ers’ clothes, took their places. To me the greasy 
clothes and high, thick-soled brogans became the 
armor of a dauntless knight, for it was the em- 
blem of the new life that was opening out to me. 
As the forms of the other drillers passed me, I 
noted them. 

One was a young, dark-haired man, with a curl- 
ing mustache and an almost feminine delicacy of 
expression. He was the driller, and I often won- 
dered why one of his depth of soul and high aris- 
tocratic temper should have adopted so rude a 
life, the very name of which is abhorred, and 
whose characteristic is drunkenness and crime. 
But circumstances oft determine us to do strange 
and various things. 

The other of these two men was about my own 
size, but somewhat older. Nearly six feet tall, 


4 


Silenced by Gold. 

with crisp, dark, curling hair, he was the typical 
tool-dresser, in whose hand the huge sledge be- 
came a toy hammer with which to fashion some 
plaything for his use. There was in his face a 
sinister and forbidding aspect, as of a man with 
whom one had best not find cause for a quarrel. 

As I stood gazing at these two men, who were 
to play such a part in this little drama, I was 
suddenly recalled to myself by the voice of my 
driller. 

“Come, now, Charley, don’t stand there gawk- 
ing after Will and J ohn. Just chunk up the boiler 
a little. The boys let the steam run down — the 
drill’s running hard now, and we’ll have to string 
out in a little while.” 

I went to the boiler and into its wide furnace 
flung the dry sticks of oak until the fire roared 
and the steam rose quickly. In a few moments 
I went back into the derrick. 

In order to throw the rope belt on the reel, I 
slowly revolved the huge spool until the belt began 
to tighten. The head of steam was very strong 
and the quick-revolving bull-wheel caught the rope, 
the reel suddenly whirled, and as the rope sprang 
to a tension I found myself sprawling in the mud 
at the side of the rig. The soft lime slush made 
me look like a marble statue, for I was completely 
plastered. 


Initiatory. 5 

“Ha ! Ha ! Ha !” roared the fat driller, as he 
seized the brake-lever for support. “That’s an 
excellent initiation for our new tool-dresser. How 
crawl up here, scrape off some of your war-paint, 
and stop the engine when the drill’s out.” 

I obeyed, and ran to the throttle-wheel. The 
engine was operated by means of a long rope 
reaching from a wheel on the machine to another 
in the derrick. In my haste I turned the wheel 
the wrong way. The engine, increasing its speed, 
the great drill slid aloft, and, striking the crown- 
pulley seventy-five feet above our heads, nearly 
raised the huge timbers from their foundations. 
But, fortunately, the driller, maintaining his pres- 
ence of mind, applied the heavy brake and threw 
off the ill-fated bull-rope that had been the cause 
of all my trouble. 

Chagrined and crestfallen, I turned off the en- 
gine, and was too abashed to look at my com- 
panion. I almost wept in my confusion. But 
Jack Horton was not the driller to chide a green 
hand for his mistakes. He only said : 

“Keep your wits about you next time, or you’ll 
have the crown-block down on our heads.” 

I went for the bailer and Jack took his place 
at the lever controlling the reel on which the 
“sand-line,” as we call the rope attached to the 
sand-pump or bailer, was wound. I succeeded in 


6 


Silenced by Gold. 

getting the pump in the well without accident, and 
by dint of careful proceeding managed to have no 
more mishaps for an hour or so. 

When the sand was out we lowered the drill, 
now buried within three or four feet of its top, and 
again the clang! clang! of the rocks rang out on 
the night. 

Now came my first trial at the work which is 
the tool-dresser’s own peculiar art. A bit was to 
be pointed. I raised the six-foot piece of steel to 
the forge and piled round it the coke and coal. 
Then I attached the bellows-rope to the great crank 
of the bull-wheel, and the regular breathing of 
the bellows fanned the flame to heat. The pile of 
coke glowed with a gleam brighter than the torches. 
The bit reddened. The corpulent driller stood 
twirling the drill this way and that, as though it 
were a plaything instead of the heavy mass that 
was goring its way through the solid rock to the 
hidden storehouses of fortune and usefulness. We 
seemed like two goblin workmen there in the dark- 
ness, with the boards clattering and creaking 
around and above us and the drill crushing the 
rocks below while that red furnace threw its lurid 
glare upon us. 

At last the bit took on that peculiar color that 
is characteristic of steel when at the forging heat, 
and slowly turning it round I was bringing it care- 


Initiatory. 7 

fully to the anvil when it suddenly turned in my 
hand and rolled off the forge upon the derrick 
floor. In my haste I put out my hand to stay it, 
and burning and smarting with the pain I stood 
there, while the drill hissed and sputtered on the 
planks. For more than a foot of its length it was 
white hot and the pine boards burst into flame 
beneath it. I knew not what to do. I could hardly 
manage it when cold. When hot I knew not even 
how to take hold of it. 

“Get that iron hook lying there, quick,” cried 
Jack. 

I sprang after it, and in a moment he placed it 
beneath the white steel. I took the cooler end, and 
together we lifted the drill upon the anvil. 

This accident was painful to me. I cared not 
so much for my burned hand, but the other two 
men did not know I was a green hand, and I was 
going to keep them in ignorance. But now they 
would notice the burned floor and bandaged fingers 
and the game would be up. 

“Well, well,” said Jack, “you’ll learn after a 
while. Now get the hammer, and be careful how 
you strike.” 

I came near braining him once or twice and hit 
his hammer with mine now and then. But finally, 
when I had almost given up in despair and my 
arms were tired with the heavy sledge, I succeeded 


8 


Silenced by Gold. 

in getting the swing, and in a few moments the 
drill was sharpened. 

How many more humiliating breaks I made 
that day I hardly care to relate. Suffice it to say 
that when noon came I left with a burned right 
hand, two blackened nails on my left, caused by 
getting my fingers in the machinery, a skinned 
nose, and one very sore foot on which I had 
dropped the bailer. And my heart was sorest of 
all. 

I was almost discouraged, and wished myself 
back at the pump-station, but there was no back- 
ing out now, so I made the best of a bad case, 
walked back to my boarding-place, and sat down 
to the good warm dinner. 

This cheered me somewhat and I felt much less 
like cutting my job. After all I might in time 
learn my work and do all I had planned to do. It 
is wonderful how a good dinner raises a tired man’s 
drooping spirits. 


Lightning and Steam. 


9 


CHAPTER II. 

LIGHTNING AND STEAM. 

It wasn’t a siesta that I took after dinner, it 
was a sound sleep, and when I woke at six I found 
myself as stiff as though I had been pounded in a 
mortar. My comrade rising at the same time, we 
went to the rig to watch our friends work and I 
to take notes off J ohn Pitts and see if I could find 
a way to lessen the number of my accidents. 

As we came to the derrick we found it half 
filled with country people. Only one or two had 
visited us in the morning, but now the news that 
drilling had begun on the lease called them out 
like angleworms in a rain. I thanked my lucky 
stars I had the morning run, for I did not wish 
to make a fool of myself and be laughed at by that 
crowd. 

Among them was one old man who seemed in- 
tensely interested in the work. He was weazened 
and bent, and yet there was something almost 


10 


Silenced by Gold. 

pathetic in his wrinkled face. His eyes seemed 
to be bright with emotion as he listened to the 
crashing machinery. 

Our appearance made the country people stand 
back reverently, for they have a wholesome fear 
of the rough, forward driller. We seated ourselves 
on the edge of the forge and Jack began talking 
with Will, who was now drilling in his fifteenth 
foot since noon. After a little time the old man 
approached me and said : 

“Young man, if you ain’t busy, I’d like to talk 
with you a little.” 

I don’t know why he selected me, but I suppose 
my boyish face and my air of simplicity had some- 
thing to do with it. Perhaps it was fate. I don’t 
know. 

I followed him out to the engine house. He 
dodged when he passed the crank for he thought 
it was going to hit him. There among the whirl- 
ing wheels and creaking shanties we two held our 
first conversation. I was impatient to be watching 
the men in the derrick and anxious to be rid of 
the old man. 

“Ye know,” he said, “I live dost here.” 

“Well, what of it?” I was not courteous, and 
didn’t mean to be. It is not a part of the driller’s 
creed to be polite. 

“I own a farm here, ye know,” he said humbly. 


Lightning and Steam. 11 

“Well, that’s good enough for you; but what 
do you want with me ?” 

“If they found oil here my farm might he worth 
a right smart speck, now mightn’t it ?” 

“If oil was found on your land, it certainly 
would.” I was keeping faithfully to the abrupt- 
ness I was copying from my fellows. A young 
soldier always struts in his uniform. 

“Do you really think they’re a-goin’ to find 
any?” He seemed to wait breathlessly for my 
answer. 

“I can’t tell anything about it. Maybe they 
will and maybe they won’t.” 

“I thought maybe you could tell somethin’ by the 
lay of the country like, bein’ an oil man yourself. 
Some of ’em says they’s oil under my piece, sure. 
It lays right over there at the foot of yon hill. 
This well ain’t more’n about twenty rod from my 
line, and it ought to test it pretty certain. They’s 
been a well put down over there on yon side about 
two mile and it had a leetle oil, but not enough 
to pay. I always argued the drillers was bought, 
and plugged it. It flowed real smart for two or 
three days and then stopped sudden like, as if 
sort of choked up. Don’t they plug ’em some- 
times? You ought to know', bein’ an oil man.” 

He flattered me, I thought, hut I cared little 
for the poor fellow’s story. Just then I heard the 


12 


Silenced by Gold. 

clang, clang of the hammers and wanted to see 
just how John managed a bit without burning his 
fingers or smashing his toes. This fellow was 
detaining me. 

“Well,” I said, “come around in about two weeks 
and I’ll know more about it.” His face looked 
pained and anxious as I hurried away, and I heard 
him say to himself: 

“If they only could! I could save ’em then. 
I’d give ’em an extry ear of corn, too.” 

At seven I went to supper, and from there to bed. 
I slept soundly till twelve, when Jack awoke me 
and we started to our work. It was cloudy and 
there seemed to be a rain coming up. We reached 
the derrick, donned our working clothes, and re- 
lieved the other hands. 

As John left he said: 

“Take care, Charley, and don’t stuff the boiler 
too much. Feed her regular, for you came near 
melting out a flue yesterday. I don’t see why they 
always have these cussed worn-out boilers on wild- 
cat wells. They’re always blowin’ up. I’m not 
the happiest man in the world myself, but I don’t 
care to get busted yet. I’m so tired I’d give a 
dollar for a good drink of whiskey to go to sleep 
on.” 

I saw he was just as much worn out as I had 
been at noon, and I felt I was not the only man 


13 


Lightning and Steam. 

whom twelve hours of constant labor could almost 
kill. As to the power of bad whiskey to bring good 
sleep, I had tried it once or twice myself in other 
days, but for a long time had left it entirely alone. 

“Charley,” said Jack, “we’re going to run fifty 
feet to-day. They’ve hitched on the walking-beam, 
and we’ll have nothing to do but drill.” 

As soon as the drill is completely buried in the 
earth the spud-line is thrown off and a beam 
pivoted at the middle is attached, one end to the 
cable and the other to the bull-wheel crank. The 
rising and falling of this walking-beam gives the 
drill a regular motion. 

I hustled around, bright and fresh from my 
sleep, ran the steam well up, and soon the beam 
was swinging blithely. It seemed like the arm of 
Vulcan, bare and mighty, as the torch-light glim- 
mered over it. I started from the engine house 
to the derrick with this thought in my head and 
my eyes on the beam. 

All the poetry suddenly left me when, coming 
too near the straining crank, a pin caught my belt. 
I was lifted about three* feet in the air and set 
down with a jar that loosened my teeth. I fished 
my cap out of a pool of mud, counted the new con- 
stellations plainly visible through the clouds, and 
heard Jack exclaim: 

“Accident number one! You’re learning fast. 


14 


Silenced by Gold. 

But, Charley, you can’t hold that crank down, even 
if you are big. Look at that plank where you 
came down and see the shoe-peg marks.” 

For the first time I saw the ludicrous in my ex- 
ploits, and I laughed with Jack long and heartily. 
We were henceforth friends, for nothing will sooner 
seal the friendship of two men than a good, whole- 
some, whole-souled laugh. 

A few minutes later I was busy piling coke over 
a heating bit when J ack said : “Listen !” 

I did so. Off in the west, above the clatter of 
the machinery we heard the roll of distant thunder. 
The fat driller trembled like a little child before 
the sound. 

“I hope it won’t come this way,” he said. 

“Why,” I laughed, “you’re not afraid of thunder, 
are .you ?” 

“Not a darned bit. But I am afraid of light- 
ning, and if that thunderstorm comes over I’m 
going to shut down.” 

Another peal, very near us, almost shook the 
earth. It was a strange feeling that came over 
me then. Away out there in the darkness, the 
torches and fires gleaming like the light of an 
army, while the heavy thunder broke above the 
creak and clang of the machinery; a feeling of 
dread, nameless and unaccountable. I saw the 
rough man at my side tremble and blanch as peal 


15 


Lightning and Steam. 

after peal sounded in our ears and blinding flashes 
dimmed even the glare on the forge. The great 
frame above our heads glittered in the strange 
light and the distant woods were outlined sharp 
against the black sky. J ack could endure no more. 

“Throw on the bull-rope, Charley. WeTl pull 
her out and shut down till the storm’s over.” 

I did not understand his fears, but I obeyed, 
and as the rod glided past up into the derrick 
Jack stopped the engine and I threw the anchor- 
hook around the drill, 

“Now, let’s get under the boiler.” 

Still not understanding why I should fear, I 
accompanied him. We crawled under the raised 
end of the boiler and waited. Suddenly a blind- 
ing flash came, followed by a terrific crash. The 
lightning had struck a tree near us. Then I saw 
the cause of Jack’s fears. The drill-rod hung 
about half a foot above the derrick floor, and from 
its point to an iron pin flowed a constant stream 
of fire. The clouds hung low. The steel caught 
the current, and to be in the rig now might mean 
death. 

Flash followed flash. The great folds of the 
cloud mantle seemed rent asunder by a giant hand, 
which tore them with a finger of fire. I lay in my 
place and trembled. Suddenly the great boiler 
above me quivered and shook. A sharp crack like 


16 


Silenced by Gold. 

a pistol shot burst on my ears, and I knew the 
boiler had been struck. The smokestack fell di- 
rectly across the safety valve. I thought of the 
weak flues. 

I was about to spring out and run for my 
life. 

“Stay where you are,” shouted Jack, clutching 
me hard. “You are safe here, and as sure as you 
touch anything you are a dead man.” 

I sank back, my very hair starting up. Hur- 
riedly I told Jack what Pitts had said about the 
flue. 

“Can you reach the water gauge?” asked Jack. 

“Yes.” 

“See how much she has.” 

I seized a long stick and, crawling to one side, 
lifted the lower gauge. It showed water. I 
touched the one above. It was empty. 

“In five minutes more there will be no water. 
Let me go and start the pump.” 

“Stay where you are,” said Jack, and I crawled 
back beside him. 

The fire was burning fiercely, and we were 
waiting between two deaths. Another clap of 
thunder and a corner of the engine-house was 
splintered. I could hear the hiss of the steam now. 
The safety valve could not open and there was 
nothing to do but wait. Breathless, expecting 


Lightning and Steam. 17 

death, I lay for what seemed an age. Then I im- 
plored Jack to let me go. I would run from the 
derrick, I would rather be killed by the lightning 
than by the explosion. I would risk it anyway. 

“Keep your ■” he would have said “place,” 

but a report came which shook the earth. 

I was thrown back dazed and almost uncon- 
scious. But in a moment I felt the hot steam in 
my face. It recalled my senses, and springing to 
my feet I dashed through the cloud of vapor and 
dust and falling debris, out into the darkness 
around. Jack too had been only stunned, and 
even as I rose I felt him struggle to his feet by 
my side and run away. As I reached the open 
air out of the stifling steam I called him. He 
answered from the other side the mass of vapor 
and I walked round to him, stumbling over pieces 
of iron and boards and burning sticks. 

“Didn’t I tell you to keep your place?” he ex- 
claimed as I came up to him. “How would you 
like to have been in there when she went up?” 
pointing to the derrick. 

I looked and saw the engine-house, belt-house, 
forge-room and reel literally cut to pieces by the 
force of the explosion. 

“When the smokestack went over the safety- 
valve, I knew what was coming,” he continued. 
“I was in an explosion once before when I was 


18 


Silenced by Gold. 

dressing tools. It came about nearly the same way, 
only I was under the boiler when the driller started 
the pump. He was standin’ in the engine-house. 
The crownsheet was dry and when the first squirt 
of water struck it, she went. I crawled out of the 
steam and hot water with a few scars. We buried 
the driller the next afternoon, what was left of 
him. There wasn’t much. I’d rather by a darned 
sight have old Keller buy a new boiler without 
having to get a new driller in my place. Well, 
let’s go home. We can’t do anything here anyhow. 
We’ll come out and pile up the pieces in the morn- 
ing.” 

The gray dawn was showing in the east when 
we came back to the house. Here our scalded 
hands and faces were dressed by the others, whom 
the sound of the explosion awakened. Driller-like 
we sat down to our breakfast in peace, not so much 
as thinking of the night, and only worrying lest 
Keller would find it out too soon. w e were being 
paid by the day. 


“ Peaches.” 


19 


CHAPTER III. 

“peaches.” 

After breakfast we concluded, as it was now 
quite light, we had better go over and see what 
was left of our machinery. The heavy rain had 
put out the fire, but we found a mass of ruins. The 
boiler had been set with one end toward the tower, 
and the flying pieces had so demolished the shan- 
ties that it would take several days to repair them. 

By this time the country people had heard of 
the explosion and they were coming with open 
mouths and wondering eyes. It was not long 
until they had heard the entire story and were 
besieging us with questions. Among the crowd I 
noticed the same old man who had talked with 
me the previous day. He was standing near the 
remains of the engine-house and was engaged in 
a conversation with our landlord. With dejected 
face, yet open mouth and ears, he listened to the 


20 Silenced by Gold. 

story of the storm, the explosion and the conse- 
quent delay. 

When he had heard the entire tale he came to 
me. I was alone at the time and no one over- 
heard our conversation. 

“Now, say, how long is this here blow-up goin’ 
to throw ye back?” he asked almost piteously. I 
was touched by the old man’s deep concern, and I 
answered somewhat more courteously than before, 
“I do not know.” 

“I want yer to get started just as soon as possi- 
ble, for I want to know what’s under this here 
place in less’n two weeks.” 

His manner was so earnest that I told him I 
thought in two weeks we could drill the well in, 
and he seemed much pleased and relieved. 

Slowly we walked back to the derrick. As we 
came near, a young man, quite well dressed and 
with a very intelligent face, stepped up to the 
bent, homely figure and spoke kindly, “Well, 
father, don’t you think we had better be going?” 

The farmer looked at him with an expression of 
so much pride that I felt a renewed interest in 
the two, and determined to find out as much as 
possible about them. Little did I dream of the 
part each was to play in my own life drama. I de- 
cided to find out who this old man could be and 
why he was so worried about the success of an oil 


“ Peaches.” 


21 


well which would never bring him a cent of money 
and which I knew would not fairly test his own 
property. 

We were busy all that day clearing away debris 
and getting things in working order. During the 
day I had an opportunity of getting better ac- 
quainted with my two fellow-workmen. I found 
John Pitts to be what his looks indicated, a large, 
strong man, who could do a piece of work in the 
best manner and in the least time, but who was ab- 
solutely without character. It was not half an 
hour after I began to help him side up the engine- 
house till he had told me stories of drunken sprees, 
of adventures in various places of low repute, and 
of half a dozen brawls and fights in which he had 
participated. 

“And, say, Charley,” he remarked suddenly, “do 
you know I saw one of the sweetest little ducks go 
along this road yesterday afternoon that ever you 
set eyes on. She was in a buggy with that young 
blood who was around here this morning. I won- 
der if she’s his sister or his honey. I don’t care, 
only I’d like to get acquainted with her. I pro- 
nounced her a peach, whoever she is.” 

As he said this so lightly, and laughed at his 
own precision in pronouncing upon “peaches,” I 
saw that he was very handsome and also very dan- 
gerous. I only said: 


22 


Silenced by Gold. 

“Yes, I’d like to meet her, too, if she’s pretty.” 

“Well, you’re right; she’s pretty. Don’t say 
I can’t tell a good-looking woman when I see one. 
I mean to meet her if we stay near here very long.” 

“I hope you will,” I said ; but I hardly told the 
truth. I wondered who the girl might be, and 
found myself wishing she was the young man’s 
sister. It would add so much to my interest in the 
old man, I thought. 

Just then our conversation was interrupted, for 
Will Hoyt, who, with Jack, had been working in 
the derrick, called us to come and help replace 
the reel, which was now repaired. We lifted the 
great spool up to its place. As we finished, Jack 
said: 

“Boys, it’s about noon. Let’s shut down till 
after dinner. This is Friday and we can’t get 
started again before Monday anyway.” So we all 
sat by the forge and rested. 

“To-morrow afternoon,” said Will, “my wife is 
coming out after me. I can hardly wait till I can 
be back in town with my babies.” 

“I’m going home, too, Saturday night,” said 
Jack. “I’ll go over to Milton and take the train. 
You boys can have my horse and rig if you want to 
go to town.” 

“I should think we would take you up,” said 
John. “This dry country place is nigh killing me 


“ Peaches.” 


23 


now. There’s nothing to drink within six miles 
of here. Seems to me I could bail out about four 
barrels of old Dutch lager about now.” 

As I heard this I shrank from the man. I knew 
the driller’s life, and I dreaded accompanying him, 
but I felt that to stay in the country would be un- 
bearable. 

Will Hoyt only said: “Don’t get drunk, John, 
and forget to come back, for we must take morn- 
ing tour next week and you’ll have to be sober 
then.” 

We worked all afternoon and the next fore- 
noon, and had everything ready for restarting the 
drill. Will’s wife came soon after dinner. A 
beautiful, delicate woman, who won your heart in- 
stantly. Will ran to meet her when she came to 
the derrick, and as he helped her from the buggy I 
saw him draw her to him and kiss her — a very un- 
common thing for a driller to do. And again I 
wondered what this gentlemanly fellow meant to 
be working in the field. At two o’clock Keller, our 
contractor, came and, driving up to the derrick, 
called Jack and me to him and asked about the ex- 
plosion. We related the particulars as nearly as 
possible, and he promised to have the new boiler 
in position by midnight that night, and then told 
us we might quit for the week. How proudly Will 


24 


Silenced by Gold. 

rode away beside the little woman, and J ack started 
to Milton with a springing step. 

I helped John to harness the horse and hitch 
him to the little cart. We sprang in and were 
soon trotting gaily down the pike. 

"I guess there’s where that old man lives who 
asks so many questions/’ said John, as we passed 
a house. 

I looked up hastily and saw the young man 
whom I had noticed at the derrick. He was as- 
sisting a young lady into a carriage. As she sprang 
lightly into the vehicle, I was struck by her beauty. 
She had the same air of refinement and culture 
that I had seen in the young man. I observed her 
rather closely ae we passed, for John slowed down 
and seemed to be looking at her, too. She did not 
so much as cast a glance toward us. 

“That’s the girl I was telling you about/’ said 
John as we rode on. “Now, ain’t she a daisy?” 

“She’s very pretty,” said I, “but she must be 
the young fellow’s sweetheart, for the old man lives 
over there in that house across the hill. He told 
me so himself.” 

“I don’t care a darn who the girl is, I mean 
to get acquainted with her before I leave this here 
place,” said the tool-dresser. 

In my own mind I had determined on doing the 
same, but I wasn’t so bold as to tell it. Soon we 


“ Peaches.” 


25 


came to the busy town. It was in the center of 
the oil field and the clang of the machine shops 
filled the air with din and smoke. 

The heavy odor of petroleum pervaded every- 
thing and the roadsides were stained by the leak- 
age from pipes. The exhausting steam from the 
engines about the field made the sound of a pack 
of hounds turned loose in the evening. The heavy 
wagons bearing great boilers, and long, shining 
drill-rods passed us in the way. The clatter of 
hoofs and wheels on the pavement drowned our 
voices. 

“Let’s leave the old horse down here,” said 
John, “then go round to Keller’s for our week’s 
pay.” 

Having come from another part of the field, I 
knew no one in the town, and must needs accom- 
pany John wherever he went. 

The horse was left cozily stabled, the twenty dol- 
lars, representing our week’s earnings, were handed 
to each of us, and we started, as John said, for a 
time. 

I had always been at work near home, where 
every cent I earned was paid to my father, and 
where the jealous care of a mother was over my 
every action, and it was with a new and strange 
feeling that I found myself free in the streets of a 
town, my pocket full of money. No one who has 


26 


Silenced by Gold. 

not seen the life of the oil man can form any idea 
of the perils and temptations that were in my way. 
Occasional slips had given me a taste for the wild 
life I knew my pals to lead, and the influence of 
Pitts was sure to lead me astray. But I thought 
myself strong to resist even him. 

How impotent is the strength of a man who has 
even started on a career of pleasure. I drank. 
The evening passed merrily. Unconscious of my 
peril, glass after glass passed my lips. A feeling 
of light and airy happiness took possession of me. 
I talked garrulously. It was soon known that I 
was one of those who had been in the boiler ex- 
plosion. Of course I told it all over with many 
embellishments. 

Long and heartily we drank and talked. Then 
we wandered out into the street. My fired soul 
could see poetry, and love, and life, and joy in 
everything. Soft eyes looked out on us. We saw 
the burning mischief in their look, but our drink- 
crazed minds paid no heed. With them we stood 
before the bar of one of the low saloons. Again 
and again their red lips were dyed in the redder 
wine. They rallied us to keep pace with them. 
Their white arms held aloft the glowing glasses, 
and our mad brains reasoned not. 

Gradually all melted into forgetfulness for me. 
I know not how it faded, but the ringing of a 


“ Peaches.” 


27 


church bell woke me and I found myself on a bed 
in a hotel. John Pitts was snoring by my side, a 
large flask of whiskey clasped in his hand. I 
sought my clothes. The pockets were empty. Not 
a cent remained of my hard-earned wages. My 
brain reeled, my head ached ; I threw myself again 
on the bed. 

A wild thought seized me. I took the bottle 
from John’s drunken hand, held it to my lips, 
drank long and deeply, replaced it, lay back upon 
the bed and was lost in forgetfulness once more. 
So passed the Sabbath day. 


28 


Silenced by Gold. 


CHAPTER IY. 

INTRODUCTORY. 

Monday noon as I picked up my pail and started 
to work, I noticed how light and elastic was Jack f s 
step and how cheerful his face. 

"Well, Charley, how was town?” he asked, gaily. 
I answered: "All right, most of it that I saw. 
How was the family?” 

"Fine ! Susan was as glad to see me as if I 
had been gone for a month, and the kids, well, you 
ought to have seen them.” 

I thought of the happy home of this jolly fat 
man, then of the scene through which I had just 
passed, and unconsciously I sighed. When we 
came to the rig, I noticed the contrast in the faces 
of Will and John. John looked pale and haggard 
as if he had been without rest for a month. Will’s 
face beamed with the happy light of contentment 
and again I could not restrain the sigh and the 
regret. 

I run the steam well up and we started the after- 


Introductory. 29 

noon’s work. Everything went along finely. We 
were well below the water line and every moment 
we expected the drill to strike the stratum of shale 
which lies just below the hard limestone. Far 
down now, the drill could no longer be heard, 
and the only sounds were those of the puffing 
engine, the creaking beam, and the straining 
cables. A week’s practice had made me quite dex- 
terous at my labor, and I had fewer accidents that 
evening than ever before. 

When dark came and the torches were lighted - 
the country people came in. They all noticed the 
change of workmen. Jack was a typical driller. 
Always ready with a joke or a tale of adventure, he 
could entertain a derrick full of visitors while care- 
fully managing his drill. 

That evening I listened to his stories rather 
sleepily, for I was depressed and out of sorts. After 
I had everything about the place settled for a time 
I walked away from the crowd of gawking men and 
boys, out to the boiler. Here I sat down. 

The evening was cool and the heat from the 
glowing furnace was pleasant. I wanted to be 
alone. My energies were low and I felt discour- 
aged and unhappy. I was thinking of many 
things, when on looking up I saw a party of young 
gentlemen and ladies entering the derrick. They 
were well dressed country people, and I noticed 


30 


Silenced by Gold. 

among them the young man I had seen, and lean- 
ing on his arm was the beautiful girl. Her move- 
ment was graceful as she stepped into the rig at 
Jack’s cheery invitation: “Come in, young ladies 
and gentlemen.” 

I determined never to go in and face them. My 
head was almost bursting and I was miserable, 
indeed, yet I found myself secretly glad that John 
was not on evening tour this week. I leaned my 
back against the woodpile and tried to think. A* 
long time I remained thus pondering, and my 
thoughts were far from pleasant. 

“Here, Charley, we’ll have to bail out,” sud- 
denly shouted Jack. 

I disliked facing that body of young people, es- 
pecially the young lady, but I concluded to go 
about my business and pay no attention to them. 
As I hurried into the derrick they all turned to 
look at me. I dare say I walked awkwardly 
enough, and I never once turned my eyes toward 
them as I stepped across, threw on the bull-rope 
and as the drill came up stopped the engine. 

Going to the pump I threw it into the well 
with a clang, and recklessly let it drop to the bot- 
tom. Jack was at the brake and stopped the bailer 
as it came up. I emptied it sullenly, sent it down 
again, and leaned against the reel waiting for it 
to return. Just once I ventured a glance toward 


Introductory. 31 

our visitors. The ladies were seated on and near 
the forge, and the gentlemen were standing. My 
eyes sought one face in the crowd, and I found 
her looking at me. I quickly turned my head and 
caught at the bailer as it came out. 

But I was not quick enough. The long tube filled 
with water and slush slid up aloft to about twice 
the height of my head. J ack suddenly reversed the 
engine, and I, catching at the descending pump, 
struck the valve and in a moment the entire thirty 
or forty gallons of slush and mud was emptied 
upon me. Imagine the spectacle I made, standing 
there in utter confusion, plastered with the white 
mud something after the manner of a ga^dem 
fence. 

Jack laughed a good, long, hearty laugh. So 
did they all, and I half angry at myself for being 
so awkward, and angry at them for laughing, stood 
in the middle of the floor and. dripped. 

‘Til fix you up all right,” said Jack, picking 
up the hose attached to the water-barrel. 

“This, young ladies and gentlemen,” continued 
he, “is the way a driller does his washing. You 
see Charley, there ? Well, he’s soaped. We’ll now 
proceed to scrub him.” 

He turned the hose upon me, and I could do 
nothing else but stand and endure it. The white 
mud was washed from me, to the relief of my tern- 


32 


Silenced by Gold. 

per, for I could not but smile, Jack did it so seri- 
ously, and to the infinite delight of our visitors. 

“Now, then,” observed Jack, as he replaced the 
hose and lowered the cause of my discomfiture into 
the well, “be a little more careful next time and 
we ? ll soon show the ladies how we let down the 
drill.” 

I saw the twinkle in his eye. As the bailer rose 
I swung it to its place, and in a moment the stem 
hung suspended in the casing. Jack stepped to 
the brake and released it and the rod disappeared 
instantly. There was the whistle of the revolving 
reel, a scream of the pulley overhead, and every 
lady rushed frightened from the rig. Jack calmly 
caught the falling drill with the brake and laughed. 

“Oh, don’t be frightened, ladies, there’s nothing 
to hurt you. Step right in and take a seat,” he 
said. 

He placed the anchor on the brake, I threw 
down the beam and in a moment the drill was 
dropping with the sullen thud that told of its 
effective work. 

As I started to the boiler to dry my wet clothes 
the young gentleman I have mentioned spoke to 
me. 

“Mr. Ford,” said he, “we have been talking of 
you over at the house. You are from Ireton, are 
you not?” 


Introductory. 33 

I answered that I was, and he went on : 

“The people where you board told papa of it 
and he says your mother and he are cousins. Have 
you ever heard her speak of a cousin in this part 
of the country by the name of Mike Ford?” 

“Very often,” I answered. 

“Then, my cousin,” he exclaimed, “I am ever 
so glad to make your acquaintance.” 

He introduced me all around the circle of his 
friends. Last of all he came to the lady in whom 
I was most interested. How I listened for her 
name. 

“Miss Gray,” he called her. I knew not whether 
I was glad or sorry that her name was not Ford. 
Hot being my cousin I had still to fear she was 
in love with Henry. 

To say I was confused at thus finding a cousin 
in that company, and to be introduced dressed in 
my wet, muddy clothes and with the effects of 
my drunken spree upon me, is putting it mildly. 
I was almost sorry I had not broken away and gone 
out to the company of my boiler and my thoughts. 

But I was in for it now. Feeling that they all 
had some right to me from the fact of my being 
related to one of them, they all began questioning 
me. My newly-found cousin asked me a thousand 
things about myself and my work, the prospects of 
the well, and many other things a man may know, 


34 


Silenced by Gold. 

but scarcely enjoys talking of when his head is 
heavy and his limbs tired. 

Miss Gray was sitting near me. She watched 
me closely as I lifted the heavy bit to the forge, 
piled the coal around it and stood blowing the great 
bellows. 

“How strong you are ! You don’t look a bit like 
Henry.” 

“Perhaps not,” I answered, “but swinging the 
sledge makes one pretty strong after a while.” 

She looked up at me rather admiringly, I 
thought. For a few moments I left them and 
went to “chunk up” the boiler. When I returned 
Miss Gray said: 

“I was watching you as you flung those great 
beams of wood into the furnace, and I almost 
fancied you some giant preparing to roast his 
evening meal.” 

I looked to see if she was flattering, but her face 
had on it only a simple air of truth, and I re- 
joined: 

“Then Jack must be the big good giant who put 
out the fire, from the manner in which he turned 
that hose on me a little while ago.” 

By this time the bit was heated, and drawing it 
out of the fire, I placed it on the anvil. I then 
brought the hammers and handed one to Jack. 


Introductory. 35 

Miss Gray asked to lift one of them, and taking 
hold of the handle she lifted it from the floor. 

“Oh, dear me,” she exclaimed, “how ever do yon 
manage to use that ?” 

They all stood grouped at a safe distance as we 
swung the heavy sledges in the air. Now we had 
the swing and the heavy blows threw a shower of 
sparks from the red steel. 

Miss Gray seemed fascinated by the scene. 

“Girls,” she said, “did you ever see a more 
beautiful picture than those two men present, ham- 
mering away at the red steel with strokes like those 
with which Thor rent the mountains?” 

The falling hammers soon drew the steel point 
out to sharpness, and Jack tempered it down and 
then thrust it into the trough. The hissing steam 
rose in a cloud. The ladies were delighted. When 
they departed for the evening, Miss Gray walked 
out with her arm through Henry’s. To Jack’s 
merry : 

“Call again, ladies,” she answered: 

“Yes, we will come often. We have enjoyed the 
evening greatly. I think I never saw so fascinat- 
ing a life. I wish I were a man; I’d be a driller 
myself.” 

Henry invited me to spend the next Sunday at 
his home. I promised to do so. I went about my 


36 Silenced by Gold. 

work, after they had gone, feeling like a different 
man, so does the knowledge of being an object of 
interest and admiration to a lovely woman cheer 
one in even the darkest moments. 


A “Reminder.” 


37 


CHAPTER Y. 

A “REMINDER.” 

The week passed much as any week passes in the 
great oil-field; we drilled on. Leaving the hard 
limestone the shaft sank through the shale at the 
rate of a hundred and fifty feet a day. We were 
in the red slate by Friday, and on that evening 
our visitors came again. The boys and men came 
from long distances to see the drilling and listen 
to Jack’s stories, amassed during a long and ad- 
venturous life. 

Every evening the old man came and sat beside 
the furnace, talking to me of my mother, of his 
own hopes for a fortune, and of anything else of 
which I would talk. I grew to like him, for under 
his strange cloak of rustic simplicity I could detect 
the beating of a manly heart. 

On Thursday he had walked out to the boiler 
where I was sitting eating my dinner, for the 
driller eats at all times, whenever he can catch a 


38 


Silenced by Gold. 

moment from his work. Sitting down beside me 
the old man began : 

“Henry was tellin’ me how ’at you was cornin’ 
over to stay Sunday with us.” 

“Yes, ” I said, “I promised him I would do so.” 

The old man shrugged his shoulders and went 
on: 

“Henry has been away some time at school, and 
he is home for a vacation. I want ye to get better 
’quainted with ’im afore you leave this county.” 

“I had a long talk with him last evening,” I 
told him, “and he mentioned that he was coming 
over to-morrow night with a party of young people. 
I like him very much, uncle, and I hope we will 
become great friends. Saturday morning we are 
going to visit the hill behind your house. Henry 
says there are some very pretty views over there.” 

“Yes, that’s jest like Henry,” said the old man, 
“always a huntin’ purty views, and a-pokin’ after 
curious stones and sich. Why, he’s got a hull box 
full of ’em up at home; and they ain’t worth 
nuthin’ either, but Henry sets all kind of store by 
’em.” 

I asked, “Does Henry go to school all the time?” 

“Yes, mostly,” he answered. “He’s been away 
now nigh onto five years. I miss him off’n the 
farm, but he sorter takes to books, and I want him 
ter have his own way. But the trouble is, you 


A “ Reminder.” 


39 


can’t do nothin’ with yer book-learnin’ now when 
you’ve got it. You’ve jest got ter work as hard 
as anybody else. Henry ain’t good fer as much 
now as he was afore he went to school. He’s always 
runnin’ around huntin’ stones, and posies, and 
birds, and bugs, and don’t seem to be of no ’count 
nowhere. But mebbe he’ll come out all right yit. 
I want ter do the best by my boy, and I know he 
will by me.” 

Just here Jack called me to bail out, and I had 
to leave the old man. He said, as he left : 

“If they’s any signs of oil, Charley, just you let 
me know. I want ter be here when this here well 
begins to come in. I feel as if some one was goin’ 
to make a fortune out of this here business, and 
I mean to have a finger in that there pie.” 

His rheumatism had affected his joints and he 
limped slowly away, while I went to my work. 

On Friday evening, as we expected, our crowd 
of young ladies and gentlemen came. A son of 
the leaser, Pankis, had come out that day, to look 
after the interests of the company. He talked 
with my cousin, and in a few minutes was intro- 
duced to the ladies and began to chat gaily. 

I did not like him. He was one of those young 
men who, when the oil had been found, had been 
a farmer’s or small merchant’s son, but who had 
suddenly found himself master of an immense 


40 


Silenced by Gold. 

fortune. He had all the vices, with none of the 
refinement and graces of a man bred in wealth. 
He came out to the derrick dressed in a dainty 
summer suit, with the most carefully creased 
trousers, a white hat, and light kid gloves. Not a 
thing about the premises would he touch even with 
the tips of his fingers, but called us to bring every- 
thing to him, to tie his horse, and in every way 
act as his servants. 

Everything was “so vulgah, you know,” that he 
seemed very glad the ladies came to relieve the 
monotony of his visit. He came round where I 
was oiling the engine and began: 

“Chawley, those girls are just as green. But 
that Miss Gray seems quite superior, quite. She’s 

d d fine looking for a country girl, d d 

fine, and I’m going to have a little flirtation with 
her, you know.” 

He walked out to the boiler with me, and stood 
off quite a distance while I “chunked up”; then 
he sauntered back into the derrick. I sat down 
by my roaring furnace, glad to escape for a few 
moments from the presence of them all. I dis- 
liked this perfumed idiot, who fancied everybody 
who had not the same number of dollars’ income 
per day as himself must he beneath him, and I 
wished he had remained away. 

Cousin Henry came out to me and began a 


A “ Reminder.” 


41 


friendly chat. We could hear and see everything 
that was going on in the derrick. The girls were 
laughing gaily as Jack told them some funny 
story, and we could see young Pankis leaning 
against the post, his lip curling in scorn of the 
jolly fat driller. 

“Ha ! Ha ! Ha !” he laughed. “That weminds 
me — ■” and then he would go off into a peal of 
silly laughter. 

“Oh, tell us another story, Mr. Norton, please 
do,” the girls would beg, and the good-humored 
workman would tell another. Then Pankis would 
again make his attempt at being witty. 

“Ha ! Ha ! Ha ! That weminds me •” 

Henry turned to me. 

“That fellow seems to be quite a sport, doesn’t 
he?” 

“He’s a fool,” I answered, giving my candid 
opinion. 

“I guess you’re about right,” said Henry. “I am 
sorry I introduced him to the ladies.” 

Pankis now began a conversation with Miss 
Gray. She parried his remarks in kind and soon 
they seemed very much interested in each other. 
It appeared that the young capitalist was now tell- 
ing a story, one of the kind such men think witty, 
and Miss Gray was seemingly very much affected 
by it, for we could hear her laughter, although we 


42 


Silenced by Gold. 

could not hear the words of the story. Henry 
seemed to be uneasy at this turn of affairs, and I 
myself felt very strangely disposed to walk in, 
collar the little dude and chuck him off into the 
slush-bed. 

Poor J ack seemed to be entirely eclipsed and we 
saw the look of displeasure on his face even where 
we sat. But it wasn’t long until the drill must be 
pulled up, and as I walked across the derrick, the 
fellow stepped far out of my way for fear of soil- 
ing his fine feathers against my greasy, dirty drill- 
er’s clothes, and I heard him remark to Miss Gray : 

“These drillers are so dirty that one has to give 
them a wide berth.” 

Jack heard him, too, and as our eyes met I saw 
again the dangerous twinkle which I knew meant 
mischief. Miss Gray looked at me, and then back 
at Pankis, and I saw her glance of scorn at his in- 
solent remark. But she sat down beside him near 
the forge to watch the drill come out. It took 
some five minutes or more to wind up the rope 
which now measured the depth of the well, and I 
saw her look of delight as the long rod came glit- 
tering and ringing up into the rig. 

“I can’t get my mind off the giants while I watch 
you. And I will think of the awful battles fought 
by Odin’s Knights.” 

Pankis only grinned. He didn’t know Odin 


A “ Reminder.” 43 

from the man in the moon. I felt I was ahead of 
him, and remarked: 

“And when Odin looks out from Asgard I hope 
he may be pleased with our work. But I fear 
Loki’s on the throne at present.” 

She caught my meaning. With a gay laugh she 
looked at the little fellow, and he, thinking it a 
good joke on somebody else, laughed too. 

By this time the bailer had been let down, and as 
it came out I seized it, now looking blood red with 
the shale slush, and emptying it dropped it back 
in the well. Jack winked at me. 

“Do you know, Mr. Pankis,” he said, “that the 
bailer always slides down on the east side of the 
well and comes up scraping the west wall ?” 

Pankis replied that he didn’t know it, and didn’t 
believe it. 

“Stand over there, now, and watch it,” said J ack. 

The unsuspecting fool turned to the ladies, say- 
ing : “This man has some very curious ideas. The 
bailer come up on the west side of the well ! But 
I’ll have to look just to satisfy him.” 

I didn’t know Jack’s program, but as the 
pump came out and I sprang to seize it, Pankis, 
fearing it would soil his clothes, stepped back, and 
collided with me. Jack did not apply the brake 
quick enough and the filled bailer was pulled high 
into the derrick. Jack reversed the engine, and I, 


44 


Silenced by Gold. 

fearing a repetition of Monday night’s accident, 
ran aside. Pankis, shocked by his collision with 
me, stood still in the middle of the floor. The 
bailer struck square on the top of the walking 
beam, the valve rose, and forty gallons of red mud 
descended with a splash on the luckless dude. He 
looked up as the valve clicked and the stuff struck 
him square in the face. 

The whole company, who had become thoroughly 
disgusted at his behavior, burst into a roar of 
laughter, and as it subsided he crawled into the 
engine-house, looking as though he had just come 
out of a dyer’s vat. J ack pursued him with “Ha ! 
Ha ! Ha ! That weminds me ” 

The fellow put on a suit of Will’s clothes and 
sneaked off to the boarding-house with all the hum- 
bleness of a ducked sheep. As he left the derrick, 
J ack said : 

“Call again, Mr. Pankis.” And as he disap- 
peared in the darkness, said to us: “Well, if a 
man wants to get the upper hand of me in play- 
ing jokes, he’s got to be up a little' earlier than Joe 
Pankis’s boy ever was. Why, I knowed his dad 
when he was poorer than Job’s turkey, and I ain’t 
goin’ to take any highfalutin’ flourishes off of that 
young feller, jist because he struck oil on his 
farm.” 

The remainder of the evening was spent pleas- 


A “ Reminder.” 


45 


antly. Henry seemed to get over his sulkiness as 
Pankis left, and we were all in the best of humor. 
Miss Gray asked me the use of every piece of ma- 
chinery, and together with one of the other ladies, 
we paid a visit to the engine-house and boiler. I 
pointed out my little nook in the woodpile, where I 
sat when not busy, close by the hissing monster. I 
detailed the working parts of the flying engine, 
and we watched the great beam swing up and down. 

When at last they all left, Jack smiled as I 
leaned back across the forge and looked out into 
the dark. 

“Fm afraid, Charley, that you are getting to be 
quite a lady’s man lately. Don’t let them turn 
your head or I’ll have to fix you like I did poor 
Pankis. Say, it did me more good to duck that 
fellow than anything I’ve done for a month.” 

I told him not to worry about my becoming a 
subject for a ducking in red shale slush as yet, and 
we enjoyed a long talk and laugh. 


46 


Silenced by Gold. 


CHAPTER VI. 

A JEWELLED THRONE. 

When midnight came I left the derrick, feeling 
that before' I should return I would know some- 
thing more about this woman who was beginning to 
be so often in my thoughts. 

Saturday morning I took particular pains to 
dress myself neatly, for I wanted her to see me 
something other than a dirty, greasy driller. As I 
looked myself over in the mirror, I had to ac- 
knowledge that I was at least not bad looking. 
You may talk about genius in rags, and such like, 
but a man’s candle of self-respect burns with a 
much brighter light when it is surrounded by a 
chimney of good clothes. 

When I arrived at Mike Ford’s house' the oth- 
ers were ready to start, and to my surprise Miss 
Gray was assigned to me, while Henry escorted 
the other lady, Miss Estes. But as I reflected that 
I was much better acquainted with Miss Gray than 
with Miss Estes, and when I noticed Henry’s 


A Jewelled Throne. 


47 


glance often straying over toward ns, I could easily 
see the reason for this, and I was not exactly 
pleased. But my heart had leaped with a wild 
bound when I -came near Miss Gray, and I felt a 
terror lest I should fall in love with her. 

We started. The dew had scarcely dried from 
the grass and we all felt the freshness of the sum- 
mer morning. Miss Gray talked charmingly and I 
felt quite at home by her side. She was dressed in 
a suit of dark blue cloth, and her lovely face looked 
lovelier under the simple broad-brimmed hat. Hen- 
ry’s glance was filled with admiration as he looked 
at her. Her rich full hair was knotted under the 
hat and a lock strayed down and lay in soft luxuri- 
ance on her temple. She was the picture of health 
and rosy life, and I could not help feeling a thrill 
of delight new and strange as she would leave my 
side for a moment to pick a wild flower or beauti- 
ful leaf and would come laughing back to me. 

When we came to the grove which skirted the 
side of the hill we paused and looked back upon 
the scene. Everything was peaceful and still in 
the sunlight. Off a mile or more towered the rig 
which was the scene of my labors, the steam from 
the exhaust pipe making a little white cloud, while 
the dark smoke floated proudly over the tall stack. 
We could occasionally hear the clang of the heavy 
machinery. And now they were sharpening a bit. 


48 Silenced by Gold. 

The regular clink of the hammers came with the 
rhythm and beauty of music. 

“This is certainly a beautiful spot,” said my 
companion, as she sat down beneath one of the 
trees. 

Her eyes were on the far-oif derrick. I noted 
the fact and was glad. Perhaps she was thinking 
of the evenings spent there. I wondered if she 
could be thinking of me. 

“When will the well be completed?” she asked. 

I answered that I could not tell, but perhaps in 
less than a week. She looked up at me, and a wish 
that it were a year instead of a week that I should 
remain near her filled my almost bewildered brain. 
Her eyes had a deep wish in them, unexpressed, 
and I fancied she' thought of me. But she said 
nothing more about the well, and we fell to dis- 
cussing the scene before us. 

“Do you know,” Henry said, “that many a sum- 
mer day I have spent dreaming under these trees. 
When I had taken my gun and come to the woods I 
often sat down here and either fell asleep and 
dreamed or drew fanciful pictures in my mind. 
But this is the first time in two years that I have 
visited the dear old spot.” 

There was a touch of sadness in his voice and 
I saw him steal a glance from the face of Mios 
Estes to that of my fair friend. 


A Jewelled Throne. 


49 


We walked along until we emerged from the 
grove out upon the top of the hill. The rocky 
ground was shaded here and there by little clumps 
of scrub oak and hickory saplings stunted by 
growing in that sparse soil. 

“I mean to take you into the cave,” said Henry, 
as we came to the opening. 

The descent into the little grotto was made by 
means of a ladder of planks, placed here by some 
adventurous seeker for curiosities. The ladies at- 
tempted the descent. Miss Estes’s figure was rather 
full and she experienced some little difficulty. The 
lithe Mabel easily sprang from plank to plank, and 
one could see in her movements the grace of the 
perfect lady. We found ourselves in a chamber 
some twenty feet high and forty or fifty in diam- 
eter, the walls of which were completely encrusted 
with crystals. 

It was a beautiful sight. The glassy walls re- 
flected the sunlight which poured in the entrance, 
and broke it into rainbow hues. An exclamation 
of delight burst from Mabel Gray’s lips. Here was 
something new for me. She had never before vis- 
ited this spot. 

Henry could make every stone tell us of its his- 
tory. I listened, but Miss Gray shifted her place 
and began to break off some crystals. I was in- 
terested in the story of the rocks, and Mabel (I 


50 


Silenced by Gold. 

called her that now to myself), with the sim- 
plicity of a schoolgirl, would run for new curiosi- 
ties and bring them to Henry for identification. 

I was wondering at the beauty of the girl when 
unconcernedly she seated herself on a great block 
of stone which lay at the other extremity of the 
cave from me. I shall never forget her as I saw 
her then. The sunlight streamed in above and back 
of her, making a throne of gold and precious gems 
out of the crystal wall. Her broad hat was thrown 
back, and the dark ringlets floated out at the sides 
and fell upon her soft neck in voluptuous splendor. 
Her white hands were clasping a bit of stone and 
the dark eyes looked down upon it. 

Ho words can tell the thrill of new passion that 
filled my soul. Were I an artist I could paint her 
to-day as I saw her sitting there in that sparkling 
chamber. I seemed standing before a princess in 
an Arabian tale. And in that one moment when 
she sat so regally upon her throne of adamant, I 
eTected a throne of love in my heart and placed 
her upon it forever. 

We rose to leave the cave. I could have stayed 
forever. As she came to me and placed her hand 
in mine I felt a perfect stream of happiness rush 
through me at the touch of her finger-tips. She 
too must have felt it, for she looked up hastily into 
my face. For the first time I saw the full depth of 


A Jewelled Throne. 


51 


those dark eyes. A strange power they had. Once 
or twice in the derrick I had caught her look as 
it fell full on my face. But now I thought there 
was a deeper meaning in their expression. 

I felt myself blushing, and I hastily ascended, 
her hand in mine. As she stepped once more into 
the open air, and stopped to rearrange her hat, I 
knew that hour passed in the glittering prison- 
house of beauty to have decided my life’s path. 

Then, all at once the memory of the past came 
like a flood of ocean-brine over my being, and I 
dropped my head from looking at her and almost 
groaned aloud. Had she known all that past, had 
she known my waywardness and folly, would she 
have allowed me even to touch the fingers of her 
gloves ? - For the first time in life I tasted the bit- 
terness of remorse in the presence of those we love. 

But a. little laughing cry startled me. Turning 
I saw Miss Estes, fast in a narrow place between 
the planks. Henry was endeavoring to assist her 
out of her predicament and she was struggling 
bravely, but her rounded form had become securely 
fastened, and it was impossible to extricate her. 
At last we each took hold of an arm, and together 
we lifted her bodily from the cave. She laughed 
as she came forth perspiring from the narrow open- 
ing, and Mabel gaily said: 

“Now, my dear Miss Estes! I have often told 


52 


Silenced by Gold. 

you you were growing too plump for your own 
happiness, and you laughed at me. You see I was 
right. There are some' places where it pays to 
be little. You see, I had a better guide than 
yours. That scientist of a Henry was thinking 
more about the pocketful of crystals he was bring- 
ing with him than he was about you.” 

Henry did not look entirely pleased at this rail- 
lery and glanced anxiously at her and at me, and 
then back at Miss Estes. That lady looked like 
some quaint fairy as she stood twirling her hand- 
kerchief and mischievously brushing the dust and 
earth from her skirts. Mabel’s eyes were spark- 
ling with fun, and Miss Estes’ pretty face was 
dimpled with laughter. A perplexed look came 
over Henry’s face. “Very well,” he said, “thanks 
to Cousin Charley’s strong arm Miss Estes is again 
on the surface of the earth, and you, cousin, stand 
there, not having helped any one or done anything 
but laugh.” 

All his shade of seriousness had vanished. But 
I was absorbed in one thought. He had called her 
“Cousin.” How the word made my heart leap with 
joy; for I knew now she was not his sweetheart. 
I could hope at least, and that one idea was all I 
could entertain. 

I had found an answer to my heart’s question, 
and as Henry turned and started away beside Miss 


A Jewelled Throne. 


53 


Estes, I read a world of meaning in his glance at 
her. And as I walked home beside’ her I was 
oblivions of everything but her sweet presence, and 
the new, strange feeling that was burning in my 
heart. I knew that I loved her. 


54 


Silenced by Gold. 


CHAPTER YII. 

THE MAKING OF FRIENDS AND FOES. 

As I went about my work that afternoon I 
whistled and sang and seemed so happy that Jack 
asked : 

“Well, Charley, did you have a good time on 
the hill?” 

“Splendid!” I answered, and I blushed to the 
roots of my hair. 

“I am glad to hear it. I suppose you enjoyed 
the company of the ladies, too? You needn’t 
answer, for I know you did. All right, my boy, 
as long as you are in the company of such ladies 
as that Miss Gray, you are safe.” 

I knew not what to say. I knew Jack read all 
my secret in my face, so I kept still. 

“Do you know, Charley,” he continued, “that 
when my boy grows up I want him to have no 
better associates than pure, good girls. The influ- 
ence of a true woman’s character is worth more 
than all the lectures, and talks, and switches a 


The Making of Friends and Foes. 55 

dozen daddies could fetch around. Mark that 
down in your day-book, Charley.” 

I wondered if he was only thinking of Miss 
Gray, or whether he knew my life had not all been 
passed in the company of women he would hardly 
have considered ideal. His next words enlightened 
me. 

“J ohn was telling me he was going into town to- 
night. If I were you, Charley, I wouldn’t go with 
him.” 

I looked up hastily. Such words, and from a 
driller ! Jack Norton speaking thus to me! 

The surprise was great, for in all my life in the 
field I had before met no man who took the least 
interest in what I did, and every one had seemed 
to care only for himself and for his own pleasure. 
My young spirit was entirely broken. The few 
words from this rough, brawny laborer did me 
more good than all the eloquent sermons of all the 
perfumed preachers I had ever heard. I burst 
into tears, seized the’ fat, rough hand of the noble 
man, and sobbing, told him all my life and my re- 
morse for the past. But I did not stop there, I 
told him of my idol, my darling, of how I came to 
love her, and of how J ohn Pitts had spoken of her. 
He heard me through, although I did make a fool 
of myself I am sure, then he said : 

“You must try to win her, Charley, it will make 


56 


Silenced by Gold. 

a man of you. And you must not go to town to- 
night with J ohn.” 

To think of winning Mabel; what could I, a 
poor tool-dresser, hope to be to such a perfect 
woman as she ? 

“Courage, my boy/’ said Jack. “You are young. 
You have had a better education than most oil- 
men; your extensive reading has made you a cul- 
tured man. Go on; you will find a chance some 
day to make a fortune and then she is yours. You 
know the ways of the oil-field and you know how 
easy it is to become wealthy if you want to. And 
besides, if she loves you, she will do anything in 
the world for you. When a woman loves a man 
she gives herself to him, soul and body. Why, my 
little wife would wade through fire to me.” 

My heart beat wildly. From that hour I had a 
friend, and I knew it. I clasped his hand. My 
feelings overcame me. I sobbed, and then turning 
walked out to my seat beside the boiler. 

Here I revolved all the events of the day, and 
strange it seemed to me that so much of life and 
love and happiness could be crowded into the short 
space of time from the moment I awoke that morn- 
ing until now. Long I sat there and of only one 
thing could I think. I was in love with Mabel 
Gray, and I loved her so much that all the 
wretched past was hateful in my eyes. 


The Making of Friends and Foes. 57 

When night came, and the country people with 
it, I escaped from the crowd as often as I could 
and sat in my beloved seat thinking. John and 
Will had come out to the rig to spend the - evening. 
Will’s wife was coming in the morning to take 
him out riding, and his eyes glowed as he spoke of 
her. 

As I sat in the little nook, J ohn came out to me. 
He began talking at once : 

“Charley, do you intend to go to town to-night, 
J ack says we may have his horse ?” 

“No,” I answered, “I am going to Mr. Ford’s in 
the morning, and Henry and I are going around 
to church.” 

“Come off now, Charley,” he exclaimed. “I 
don’t hope you are becoming so religious as that. 
Are you sure only you and Henry are going?” 

“That was all he mentioned,” I replied. 

“Well, then I’ll be all right, for old Ford has 
invited me over to take dinner with them. I’m 
going a little earlier and have a talk with the girls.” 

My heart sank as he said this, for I felt that 
my golden dream was about to be shattered. I 
feared this handsome, soulless man, and I dreaded 
to have him meet Mabel. But there was no way out 
of it. I answered: 

“I hope. we will both enjoy our visit. You better 
go along with Henry and me to church.” 


58 


Silenced by Gold. 

“Church be d d,” he said. “Pm going to see 

Mabel Gray, and I don’t care whether there’s a 
church within ten miles. That girl’s one among a 
thousand for beauty, and I’m going to get better 
acquainted with her in spite of church, or Henry, 
or you either, for that matter.” 

“Look here, John Pitts,” I said, rising, “Mabel 
Gray is a lady, and if you try any of your games 
on her, you and I will cease to be friends. Besides 
Henry Ford is her cousin and mine, and we will 
protect her honor. If you go with me to Michael 
Ford’s to-morrow, and Mabel should be there, you 
will behave as a gentleman or you will answer to 
me for your actions.” 

He smiled with an impudence that exasperated 
me. 

“Seems to me,” he sneered, “that you are taking 
a great deal too much interest in your cousin’s 
sweetheart. And besides, you are getting awfully 
careful of a lady’s honor. Do you remember the 
girls you were drinking and dancing with a week 
ago to-night? You were very careful of their 
honor, weren’t you?” 

“What I did last Saturday,” I answered, “I did 
unthinkingly, and never again shall I be led into 
such things by you or anybody else. And whatever 
Miss Gray may be to me or my cousin, remember 


The Making of Friends and Foes. 59 

my words. You behave as a gentleman or you 
answer to me.” 

I turned and walked into the derrick, leaving 
him standing in the glare of the furnace, looking 
dark and evil as a demon. As I entered the rig 
Will came to me. 

“Charley, did you have a quarrel with John 
Pitts just now ?” he asked. 

I did not answer. He continued : 

“I heard your voices, and they had a menacing 
ring. I don’t want you to keep it from me, for I 
know J ohn better than you do, and I want to know 
what it is all about.” 

For a moment I did not reply, but looked him 
in the' face. There was a look of such kind con- 
cern in his eyes that I could not help thinking it 
best to tell him all. 

“Oh, nothing much, a few words about a — a 
lady,” I stammered. 

“Who was the lady ? Charley, tell me the 
whole thing, maybe I can help you.” 

Then I told him how John had spoken of Mabel 
and what the result would be if he followed up 
his words. When I had finished Will looked 
carefully at me and said : 

“Charley, tell me the truth. Are you in love 
with Miss Gray ?” 

I looked in his eyes and answered : 


60 


Silenced by Gold. 


“I am.” 

“She has talked with John several times in my 
presence/* he said, “and he is continually speak- 
ing to me about her. He has broken half a dozen 
women’s hearts and ruined their lives. Beware’ 
of him.” 

I almost staggered. She had not mentioned 
that she was acquainted with any one but Jack 
and myself, and J ohn had never indicated by a 
word that he had met her. Will went on: 

“John told me not to mention to you that he 
had met Miss Gray, for he said you were in love 
with her and meant to go to see her Sunday. I 
kept his counsel till to-night when, seeing you 
two quarreling, I knew what was the matter. Miss 
Gray appears well, but don’t trust too implicitly 
in her looks, and don’t lose your heart. She may 
be all right, and if she is she will soon read John’s 
character and will have nothing more to do with 
him. I have not known you long, Charley, but 
you appear well inclined, and I caution you to 
have as little to do with John Pitts as possible. 
Do not cross his path, for he would as lief kill a 
man as look at him. Come to me and tell me all, 
and I will keep a sharp lookout on Pitts, if any- 
thing serious should come out of this affair.” 

I had judged Pitts rightly, then, from the first- 
and read his villainy in his face. I determined 


The Making of Friends and Foes. 61 

that the morrow should decide whether I should 
permit my love to go on or should quench it at 
once. Vain fancy! The burning fire in my 
breast should have told me it was too late to stop 
the raging passion. 

John and Will left, and it was not long until 
old Mike came out to the boiler, from his place in 
the derrick. He was a regular attendant at the 
rig. He sat down by my side before the fire. I 
noticed again the look of anxiety and pain that 
had settled on the poor wrinkled face. 

“Well,” he began, “I hope next week this time 
we’ll know what yer goin’ to git. If they git a 
good well I’m goin’ to give my little pigs two 
ears extra that day. Don’t yer think they’ll strike' 
it?” 

“I hope so, uncle,” I answered, “but we never- 
can tell a thing until the time comes. We are 
going down pretty fast now, nearly two hundred 
feet a day, but it only takes a little slip of the- 
machinery somewhere, to drop the drill, and take 
a week or two of fishing to get it out.” 

“I know, Charley, but this here’s got to be a 
good well. Say, how did that young feller, that 
Pankis youngster, take the duckin’ you give him 
the other night? Mabel was tellin’ us all about 
it, and she says you fellers did it on purpose.” 

“Well, I suppose we did,” I laughed. “He 


62 


Silenced by Gold. 

took it as he had to, with a good grace. But what 
made you think of that ?” 

“I was just thinkin’,” said the old farmer, “how 
them there fellers as has struck oil on their farms 
can strut around in them fine clothes, and smoke 
them fine cigars, and drive them fine' buggies and 
they don’t know nothin’ nohow compared with 
some others who hain’t got no money at all. It 
done me good to hear about that there feller get- 
tin’ plastered up out here t’other night. And 
Mabel says he tried to git sweet on her, too. I 
wish they’d take all them lazy good-for-nothin’ 
fellers and duck ’em in the river like sheep. And 
he didn’t have no business gettin’ sweet on Mabel, 
neither, for if she ain’t my daughter she seems 
a’most like one of our own family, and I like her 
just as much as if she was my own. The feller’s 
got to have more’n money who ever gets her. I 
am her guardian, and I’m goin’ to see what she 
gets for a man. Money’s all right, but they’s 
things that’s better.” 

It was on my lips to tell him I loved Mabel, 
but he went on : 

“Money’s all right in its place, but them that 
ain’t got much of it’s happier than them that has. 
Now, that there young feller with all his fine 
clothes and fine ways ain’t near as happy as my 
Henry, who can go out and enjoy himself any- 


The Making of Friends and Foes. 63 

where, nor Mabel, who can talk and read three or 
four languages and who can cook a dinner or 
scrub a floor with the best of them. I ain’t got 
much, but I’ve raised my children pretty well and 
I only want to strike oil so’s I can send ’em on. 
Money by itself ain’t goin’ to raise fat pigs. 
Give ’em an ear or two extra, more’n the old ’uns 
now and then. That’s the way to raise good hogs, 
and children, too.” 

Everything any one said seemed to point to the 
almost impassable gulf which separated me from 
my darling. Was I not a fool to set up such an 
idol in my heart, such an idol, at whose shrine I 
was too unworthy to offer even a sacrifice? I sat 
revolving all this in my mind. 

When I suddenly thought of the things around 
me and looked up the old man was gone. I could 
hear his footsteps dying away in the distance. 

Above me glittered the stars in a cloudless sky. 
Their clear light, which had been my only com- 
panion and comfort in those days when I led a 
pumper’s lonely life, seemed strangely suited to- 
night to my frame of mind. Yet they seemed to 
have changed. It seemed my love was like these 
stars, as distant, as wonderful, as unattainable. 
There, alone by my hissing boiler, looking out at 
the distant points of light, whose splendid mys- 
teries no one has been able to explore, I felt 


64 


Silenced by Gold. 

creeping over me a new life, a mystery of love, 
and I registered a vow that if time and labor 
could make me worthy Mabel Gray’s affection she 
should some day be mine. The stars shone on un- 
changed, unmoved by the vow of the tiny mortal 
gazing on their stupendous magnificence, and 
feeling in his bosom a surging passion whose bil- 
lows rolled with all the fierceness with which the 
fiery billows sweep those distant realms of space. 
All is so changed to-day that I hardly recognize 
myself standing there under the stars, longing 
for the power to win the heart of that young 
maiden whose very name made' my heart throb 
with strange delight. 


The Queen and Three Courtiers. 65 


CHAPTER VIII. 

THE QUEEN AND THREE COURTIERS. 

Sunday morning was bright and clear. I was 
up at seven o’clock, and with the utmost care 
smoothed the creases in my trousers and brushed 
away every particle' of dust from my clothes. 
Mabel would see me at my best to-day. At last 
I was ready to start. John was not yet out of 
bed, and I didn’t wait for him, but walked down, 
the road toward Mike Ford’s, fearing lest I should 
be late for church. 

Henry was expecting me, and I noticed how; 
handsome he looked as he invited me to enter the 
house. I glanced round the plainly, furnished 
sitting-room. Homemade carpet covered the 
door. The walls had few pictures or decorations 
of any kind, an old-fashioned clock ticked loudly 
from a shelf at the side, and in one corner sat a 
sewing-machine. 

I had expected to find Henry’s home elegant 


66 


Silenced by Gold. 

and well-furnished, and was surprised at the evi- 
dence of poverty. On one side of the room stood 
a sort of cupboard, made of unpainted pine, and 
the shelves were full of books. This was the only 
evidence that the place was the home of cultured 
and refined people, if the scrupulous cleanness 
and the tasteful arrangement of the few orna- 
ments be excepted. 

Henry drew out a heavy old rocking-chair 
which appeared large and strong and comfortable 
enough for two, and invited me to be seated. He 
seemed not the least embarrassed by his poverty, 
and I saw in that the evidence of his culture. 
The cultured mind ever rises above' its mere en- 
vironment and penetrates beyond appearances 
into realities. Only the vulgar are attracted by 
the gilding and paint of hypocrisy and sham. 

“The girls are not quite ready to start,” he said. 
“We will sit down and wait for them.” 

We sat down, my thoughts upon the fact that 
the girls were to accompany us. He went on 
talking : 

“Do you know, the girls around here have all 
fallen in love with you oil men? You must be 
careful or you will carry off all the hearts in the 
neighborhood. Why, Miss Estes is half crazy 
over your strength, and all the girls that have 
been out to the rig are continually talking about 


The Queen and Three Courtiers. 67 

yon drillers. Now, I don’t think it fair that we 
fellows who have lived here all our lives should 
be so totally eclipsed, do you?” 

“I hope the girls will all live through it,” I 
answered, hardly knowing what to say. “The 
novelty of the driller’s life interests them, that 
is all.” 

We were interrupted by the opening of a door 
and the objects of our conversation entered. Miss 
Estes was the first to come in. She gave me a 
cordial reception. Miss Gray merely acknowl- 
edged my presence by a slight nod. 

“I don’t suppose you will object to walking,” 
said Henry. “Father has only one buggy, and 
that’s not strong enough for four. It’s only a 
mile.” 

We assented and started on. 

“I am going to have Mr. Ford to-day,” cried 
Miss Estes, coming to my side. 

I could not well decline walking with her, and 
so abandoning my yearning desire to be with 
Mabel I proceeded. But 1 could not find sub- 
jects for conversation with Miss Estes, and sev- 
eral times my cousin and Miss Gray stopped to 
chide us for our silence. At last I found a subject 
of which Miss Estes would talk. It was of her 
friend, the one subject I wanted to hear about. 

“You know, Mr. Ford,” she said, “that Mabel 


68 


Silenced by Gold. 

and I are great friends. She lives there with her 
uncle, and I live' at Milton. But I spend half 
the time out here* and the rest she spends with 
me. We were room-mates in school, and have 
been chums all our lives. She seems just like a 
sister to me. She and Henry are such fine people 
that I know you will just fall in love with both 
of them.’* 

I thought that I had fallen in love with one of 
them already, but I didn’t say so, and she went on. 

“Henry adores Mabel, and I believe he would 
marry her, but she says she will not marry her 
cousin. But I often tell her she cannot find a 
nobler man in all the world than Henry, and she 
had better marry him. I just about think she has 
fallen in love with some one else, for here of late 
she won’t let me speak of Henry at all. When I 
came out last week, I noticed she seemed changed. 
I often catch her standing at the window, or 
sitting with her needlework lying idly in her lap, 
apparently absorbed about something. I don’t 
know what to think. Look at them now. Henry 
is talking to her, and she doesn’t hear a word he’s 
saying. I believe she’s in love.” 

She was walking along looking away to one side 
while Henry was saying all manner of things to 
her. I wondered whether — but no, the thought 
was absurd. She was not thinking of me. Why 


The Queen and Three Courtiers. 69 

should she be so absorbed in thought? Suddenly 
I recollected what Will had said of her talks with 
Pitts, and, like a demon conjured up by a sor- 
cerer’s art, at the moment I thought of him I saw 
him in the road coming toward us. 

I had not more than noticed him when Mabel 
saw him also, and she seemed transformed. Her 
face changed two or three colors, she turned 
toward Henry and began talking rapidly. 

We were just passing a house, and a young lady 
whom Henry introduced as Miss Darfey joined 
us. Pitts was now but a few rods away. As he 
came up he was greeted by Henry and by Miss 
Gray. Miss Estes nodded to him, and he said 
to me: 

“Well, Charley, you beat me a little, but I guess 
Pm not too late for church.” 

“Oh, do accompany us, Mr. Pitts,” said Miss 
Gray, and added, “since Miss Estes has one driller, 
I’m going to take the other.” 

And poor Henry found himself left to the ten- 
der mercies of Miss Darfey, in whose company he 
was silent all the way to the little church. 

Miss Estes resumed her interrupted stream of 
talk about Miss Gray, and I listened somewhat as 
Mabel had listened to Henry. 

“See how different she acts now,” observed Miss 
Estes. “I really believe she’s in love with that 


70 


Silenced by Gold. 

handsome young fellow. He called on her 
Thursday evening.” 

I had to shut my lips tight to keep back an ex- 
clamation of surprise. 

“She 1 thinks him very handsome, but I don’t 
like the looks of the man. There is something 
about him I don’t fancy at all.” 

It was on my tongue to tell her all I knew, 
but I kept silent and she went on : 

“Henry doesn’t like him either, but he' never 
says anything about it for fear of hurting her 
feelings. But we would both much rather she 
would not pay so much attention to him.” 

I was wishing so, too. My eyes were upon 
them. Pitts was appearing his best. He was well 
dressed and I had to acknowledge him a hand- 
some man. He was six feet tall, strongly built, 
with a handsome dark mustache, and curly hair. 
His black eyes glowed as he looked at her, and 
her face was upturned to his with an almost ad- 
miring gaze. 

They were far enough away that I could not 
catch their words, but every little while her ring- 
ing laughter came to me. I caught one or two 
words and heard my own name mentioned. 
Could he be talking about me? Perhaps he was 
telling her of how I had spoken to him the even- 
ing before. I wished at that moment I could take 


The Queen and Three Courtiers. 71 

the smiling villain by the neck and beat his head 
against the boiler, but the only thing I could do 
was to walk on saying nothing and listening to 
Miss Estes, who was probing my heart through 
and through. I was jealous. A man never is in 
love long until he feels that most exasperating of 
evil passions at his heart. 

“What makes you so silent, Mr. Ford?” com- 
plained my companion. 

“I was only listening to you,” I excused myself. 
“You don’t want me to interrupt you in your talk, 
do you?” 

“But then, you were walking along here and 
your eyes showed you didn’t hear a word that I 
was saying. I really believe you are jealous of 
Mabel and Mr. Pitts. If you are w.e’11 let you 
walk home from church with her,” she said, petu- 
lantly. 

If I had told her my thought I would have 
said nothing on earth would have pleased me so 
much as to be allowed to walk home with Mabel. 

“Here we are at the church,” exclaimed Miss 
Estes. 

The rest of the party waited for us and to- 
gether we all entered. I don’t know if it were 
purposely done or not, but it was so arranged 
that I sat on the long wooden bench between Miss 
Estes and Miss Gray. All the time of the serv- 


72 Silenced by Gold. 

ices I thought only of her. She was by my side. 
Her hand lay within a foot of my own. How I 
longed to seize that fair hand, to tell her that I 
loved her and to ask her love in return. 

She never once looked at me. But she didn’t 
look at Pitts either, so I was satisfied. She paid 
perfect attention to the services. Miss Estes 
could not forbear a glance round once in a while, 
and once she leaned over near me and whispered : 

“The girls are all looking at us, and they are 
all green with envy.” 

This made me feel so self-conscious that I be- 
gan blushing, and the blood tingling in my veins 
made my face even redder than exposure to the 
sun had made it, and I felt as though the eyes of 
the entire congregation were on my rough driller’s 
hands, and browned face, and I knew they re- 
garded me somewhat as men look at a rare and 
curious animal at a menagerie, wondering where 
the thing came from and what it is doing here. 
Indeed it is an unusual sight to see a driller in a 
country church, even in the field. To those who 
did not know that Henry and I were cousins it 
perhaps seemed very strange. 

But the service was over at last, and many 
people came round to meet the two strangers, on 
whose work of the next week hung so much for 
these land-owners. Starting homeward, I found 


The Queen and Three Courtiers. 73 

myself again by the side of Miss Estes, and to my 
chagrin John walked with Mabel. 

The events of the walk were few. Pitts had 
little to say and I had less. Once I caught his 
eye as Mabel’s laugh rang out at something he 
had said. There was in it a glitter of triumph 
that told me he was enjoying his success the more 
from the evident dissatisfaction I displayed. I 
could but know that Miss Estes felt my abstrac- 
tion and guessed its cause. 

When we arrived at the farm-house, dinner was 
awaiting us, and here I met Henry’s mother, a 
pale, patient woman, who had been an invalid 
for two or three years, and who was now barely 
able to be upon her feet. Mabel put on an apron 
and in a few minutes was setting chairs, carrying 
dishes and working as only the poor girl knows 
how to work. 

As we sat that afternoon in the little room, and 
then when Mabel was through her work, all went 
out under a large tree in the yard, I was thinking 
how it would seem to have a little home, and a 
little housewife, like the lovely girl I was watch- 
ing, going about the mistress of it all, and my 
heart yearned for the great happiness. 

Pitts kept close to Mabel’s side. Since we 
started to church she had never spoken to me. 
Henry seemed absorbed in Miss Darfey. Miss 


74 


Silenced by Gold. 

Estes had been trying for a long time to entertain 
me. There was one woman, it seemed, to whom 
we three men were looking. And she was paying 
attention to no one but Pitts. 

I noticed that when they selected their place 
beneath the tree, they retired to where we would 
not overhear their conversation. Once Miss Gray 
called Miss Estes to one side and they talked for a 
few moments. 

As John and I were about to take our leave, 
Miss Estes said to me : 

“Mabel wishes to see you a few minutes.” 

I looked in her face with an expression not 
alone of surprise but of pleasure so intense that 
she must have read all my feeling. 

“I see you are pleased,” she laughed. “And I 
may tell her you will remain ?” 

I answered “Yes.” I could say no more. 

John was just going, and as he spoke to her I 
could notice a slight shade of displeasure on 
both their faces. He walked a little distance, 
then stood awaiting my coming. 

I went up to Mabel and expressed my thanks for 
the enjoyable day I had passed. Then I stood 
silent for a little time. Miss Estes was talking 
with John, and Henry had walked down the road 
with Miss Darfey. 


The Queen and Three Courtiers. 75 

“You must speak to Mrs. Ford before you go,” 
said Mabel. 

I recognized the ruse and we walked toward 
the house. 

“Can you not stay with us again next Sunday ?” 
she asked. 

I replied that in all probability we should fin- 
ish the well and be moved before a week. She 
looked up quickly. 

“You must surely call again before you go,” 
she murmured. “You must not leave your cous- 
ins without coming to say good-bye.” 

I looked at her. There was no expression in 
her countenance other than friendly interest, nor 
could any deeper meaning be gathered from her 
words. But I could not deny myself the pleasure 
of her presence even though I knew I should reap 
from that pleasure only bitter pain. 

“I do not know when I can come,” I faltered, 
“unless I come to-night. Have you promised any 
one your company for this evening?” 

She stood silent for a moment, then looking in 
my face with a sweet smile, she said, simply : 

“You may come at seven. I shall expect you.” 

We were now at the house. I took leave of Mrs. 
Ford and started back to John. Together we 
walked away down the road. I was determined 
he should not know of my triumph until it was 


76 


Silenced by Gold. 

too late for him to thwart my plans. We hated 
each other, and both knew it. He spoke at last. 

“Deuced fine girl that! Spent a glorious day. 
That little Estes of yours ain’t so bad either, 
Charley.” 

I looked at him steadily and said: 

“Both of them are ladies ; and both are too good 
for either you or me.” 

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” he laughed. “I 
always think I’m good enough for any girl I can 
get, and do you know, Charley, as I watched that 
Mabel, working around the house, clearing away 
the dishes, I don’t believe I’d object to having a 
house of my own, if I had such a little minx to 
do my work for me.” 

He had thought the same as I had, then. I 
pretended not to have been particularly struck by 
the scene, and remarked : 

“Oh, yes, she did do her work nicely, and all 
that, but there’s lots of women just as clever.” 

“How see here,” said the tool-dresser, “there 
ain’t another woman I’ve ever seen would look as 
sweet in a calico apron as that girl, and I’ll tell 
you what, I’m in love with her. But I asked to 
come and see her to-night and she excused herself, 
saying she had an engagement. I’m going to 
church anyway and see who she has along. I’ll 


The Queen and Three Courtiers. 77 

bet it will be that little book-worm of a Henry. I 
just despise him.” 

I was about to tell him I was her escort and ask 
him to stay at home from church and attend to 
his own affairs, but he went on: 

“The' fellow who takes that girl from me has 
to be a slicker one than that young blood. Why, 
she turned him off as easy this morning as any- 
thing could be, and he couldn’t take the hint and 
withdraw his date for this evening. Well, we 
will see. I am going- to see her again before this 
week’s out, don’t you doubt it.” 

He was talking, I was thinking. 

“Mabel does not speak to me all day,” I 
mused. “She appears to want John for her com- 
panion. He asks her to go with him to-night. 
She refuse's and by hinting to him of a previous 
engagement, and afterwards, accepts me for her 
escort. Is it not plain she cares for me more than 
for him, yet, for some unaccountable reason, treats 
me with indifference? Then she has been acting 
strangely for the past week or two. Shall I not 
hope?” 

My impulsive nature was all on fire as I rea- 
soned thus. If I had hope now, soon I should 
have certainty. To-night should tell. I did not 
mean to tell her I loved her, but some action, some 
word of hers would surely betray her feelings. 


78 


Silenced by Gold. 

Thus we walked on. John, talking and telling 
me how he loved Mabel, I revolving my plans, and 
taking measures for outwitting him and winning 
the woman on whom we had both set our hearts. 


A Woman’s Way. 


79 


CHAPTER IX. 

A WOMAN’S WAY. 

At seven o’clock my rap brought Mike Ford to 
the door. A few minutes later, I was by the side 
of Mabel, walking toward the little church. She 
was an admirable companion ; we talked of all 
sorts of things. She kept up a constant flow of 
conversation. Suddenly she turned her face full 
on me and asked : 

“Did Mr. Pitts say anything about me this af- 
ternoon ?” 

“I don’t remember anything. Why?” I an- 
swered. 

“Oh, nothing, only I refused him my company 
for the evening. He persisted and I told him I 
had an engagement. I thought maybe he told 
you about it. You and he seem to be friends.” 

Friends ! When two men are in love with one 
woman can they be friends? But I answered: 

“Ho, he said very little about it. He mentioned 


80 Silenced by Gold. 

that you had refused him, but I did not venture 
to ask why.” 

“I will tell you why.” And she looked into my 
eyes. “It was because I wanted you.” 

Her bright eyes did not lose my own for a 
moment as she went on : 

“I do not like him, and I wanted a talk with 
you.” 

She who was so indifferent all day was thus 
confidential at night. It was inexplicable. She 
noticed my silence and continued: 

“You are surprised at me for speaking so to 
you. Well, you deserve an explanation. I observe 
that Miss Estes thinks a great deal- pf you. I 
have her picked out for Henry, and in some way 
she must win him. She is in danger of falling in 
love with you, and I want to prevent it.” 

I wanted-, oh, so much, to tell her all I felt, 
but I let her proceed : 

“Henry has some very queer ideas,” she said t 
“He has studied, and studied and studied. I. be- 
lieve the man has no heart outside of his books. 
Only this evening he and I were talking and I 
spoke of love as a holy, sacred thing. He said 
he did not believe that. He declared love to be 
purely egoistic and not to have in it an element of 
true beauty. He declared I did not know any- 
thing about such things and was a simple girl 


81 


A Woman’s Way. 

who would learn better after a while. You appear, 
Mr. Ford, to be a thinking man, and for this rea- 
son I speak plainly to you. Is Henry right? Is 
his idea the truth ?” 

I answered, “No, I am sure it is not.” 

I could have answered more. I could have 
told her of my love for herself. 

“No,” she responded, ^there' is too much un- 
selfish, pure affection in the world; there is too v 
much of the ideal and the. beautiful; in love for 
any such notions as his. You know, more about 
that than Henry dees.” 

“Well,” I stammered, “Henry has studied 
more, has thought more than I have, and should 
know more about it. But still, I think him 
wrong.” 

She raised the beautiful eyes which had for a 
moment been shaded by their long lashes, and 
looking straight in my eyes said : 

“Yes, Henry fyas studied more, but has he felt 
more ?” 

I could feel the hot blood rush through my 
veins as her eyes stirred the depth of my heart. 
The words sprang uncontrollably from my lips : 

“You know he has not.” 

“How do I know?” she asked, without bending 
her gaze. 

She was probing me through and through. But 


82 


Silenced by Gold. 

my glance never wavered, thougn my brain reeled 
as I answered : 

“Because you know I love you/ 

She placed her hand on my arm and said only : 

“Then you will do as I bid you?” 

“Anything in the world.” 

“Is that egoism ?” She was making me my own 
argument. “Why do you wish to do as I bid you ?” 

“Because I love you.” 

“Do you hope to win me for your wife ?” 

The question almost stunned me. I was unable 
to answer. I knew I did, yet I feared to offend 
by speaking. 

“You acknowledged you love me ; you agree to do 
my bidding; and yet I can give you no hope, I 
have at least given you no hope of winning my 
hand. You see, your own heart is not actuated 
by pure selfishness. Now tell me what Pitts said 
to you on the w T ay home this evening. You have 
been keeping something from me.” 

I felt the strange power of this beautiful and 
wonderful woman, and I could not refuse to do 
anything she should ask me to do, so I told her 
all. When I had finished she looked up into my 
face. 

“See how unselfish you are,” she said. “You 
would go with me to church though you knew 
you would be seen by that man, and he would 


83 


A Woman’s Way. 

recognize in you his rival, and would ever after 
be your mortal enemy. You would do all this for 
the sake of a woman who was in your company 
one entire day without speaking a single word 
to you.” 

“But,” I said, “Henry would say I did all this 
for the pleasure of being near you. I know not 
if my presence be pleasing or displeasing to you.” 

“You certainly know,” she replied, looking into 
my face, “since I went to the pains of almost ask- 
ing you to come with me to-night. It was to 
please me you came, not to please yourself. It 
was to please me you thus brave the wrath of that 
bold, bad man whom I have used as a tool to find 
out more about you.” 

“And you took such an interest in me,” I fal- 
tered. 

“Yes, I am not one of these silly, romantic, 
dodging, machinating women who fish for a lover 
with a bait of coquetry. I care a great deal for 
you, for I see in you the qualities of a true man. 
Be careful that you never show yourself other- 
wise. I fathomed your love for me before I had 
known you an hour, perhaps before you knew it 
yourself. I know a great deal of the story of your 
life. I know how you lived before you came here. 
And to-day, by dint of making John Pitts jeal- 
ous, I have secured the story of every bad thing 


84 


Silenced by Gold. 

you ever did. I know how you went astray and 
I know even in what words you referred to me 
when you were under the influence of bad whis- 
key and worse women. In short, I think I know 
all about you that your friends or your enemies 
can tell. And I am satisfied with you.” 

“And may I hope ” 

“You must hope for nothing. I want you to 
obey me implicitly and see that you are true to 
every trust. Now, as a first proof of my regard 
for you, I am going to arrange matters so you will 
escape John Pitts’ enmity to-night.” 

“What care I for John Pitts or a dozen like 
him?” I cried. 

“You are too impulsive,” she said. “You must 
tone yourself down a little if you are to be my 
lover. Back here come Henry and Miss Estes. We 
will wait until they arrive, and then you must go 
in with her and walk home with her. When you 
are home, wait. Henry and I will linger behind. 
Even he need be given no reason. Bemember, and 
if you love me, obey.” 

I submitted. I stood by her side until Henry 
and his lady came. Then Miss Gray put on an 
air of gravity, almost of anger, and said : 

“I want to exchange beaus with you, Miss 
Estes; this man is incorrigible and I believe after 
all he prefers your company to mine.” 


85 


A Woman’s Way. 

Could it be that I had known this woman less 
than a week and she had thus compelled me to 
obey her! I said nothing as Miss Estes came to 
me, but I observed the change on Henry’s face 
as he stepped to the side of his cousin. I had no 
time for comment. The smiling Estes said, as 
we entered the church : 

“I wonder what on earth has come over Mabel, 
she is as full of whims as a magpie. Of course, 
you didn’t quarrel; but she has some reason, and 
she seldom makes a mistake. Why, there is Mr. 
Pitts,” and she directed my eyes to where the 
tool-dresser sat, handsome and evil looking, close 
by the door. 

He glanced from me to Henry, and from Henry 
back to me again as we entered, and I saw a dan- 
gerous gleam in his dark eye. I pitied Henry, 
who was exposed to his wrath. As his eye rested 
on Mabel there was a softer shade overspread its 
dangerous lustre, and he looked at her for a mo- 
ment as though he would read her very heart. As 
she saw him she smiled and passed on down the 
aisle. 

I felt that she was mistress of herself, and was 
satisfied that whatever should come about she 
would conquer. I heard little of the sermon. I 
was thinking of this strange, powerful woman, 
of the three men who had set their hearts on her, 


80 


Silenced by Gold. 

ana especially of the one dark and dangerous, sit- 
ting on that seat near the door, evil-looking and 
ominous. 

When the service closed I left the church with 
Miss Estes, and as we passed the door John was 
standing near. I knew he had the audacity and 
impudence characteristic of his class, but I was 
hardly prepared for what he did. 

He spoke to Mabel, and then, as she left the 
house with Henry, he asked to see her home. I ex- 
pected Henry to strike him ; I could not have re- 
sisted the impulse, but my cousin only glanced at 
Mabel, and would have given his place to the fel- 
low had she not taken his arm and said : 

“Thank you, Mr. Pitts, but I do not at present 
require your company. Come, Henry, let us go 
on.” 

She said the words so ccolly and with such an 
air of authority that they affected even the brazen 
heart of the tool-dresser, and he did not venture 
to encroach farther. He looked at me. I saw a 
gleam in his eye. Did he understand? Was he 
at that moment fathoming our secret? 

I could not tell. I kept my eyes fixed on him 
for a moment, then proceeded. As we reached 
the open way I glanced back. A bright moon was 
shining and I imagined I could see him follow- 


87 


A Woman’s Way. 

ing us. But we made no change in our little com- 
pany. We reached the farm-house and entered. 

Miss Gray locked the door and left the key in 
the lock. I saw this and wondered at her care. 
Clearly everything had been planned beforehand. 

I was seated in the big armchair revolving mat- 
ters in my mind, when she walked over to. my side 
without a word, seated herself on the arm of the 
chair and placed her hand upon my shoulder. 

I looked up. Her face was beautiful with a 
light of love. 

“You are a noble man,” she whispered. J‘We 
have foiled even the villainous oil-man. You are 
one man among a thousand.” 

I raised her hand to my lips. She made no 
show of resistance and I kissed it fervently. 

“Do you indeed love me?” I whispered. 

Her eyes gave answer. I read her look, but 
she said, with eyes downcast : 

“Yes, I love you.” 

In a moment I clasped her in my arms in one 
sweet embrace. That was all. Yesterday Mabel 
Gray and I were mere acquaintances. To-night 
we were lovers. My arm was about her waist and 
her head rested on my shoulder. It seemed like 
some tale of fairyland and not an episode in my 
own life. I feared I would awake and find it all 
a dream. Forty-eight hours had not elapsed since 


88 Silenced by Gold. 

I had become conscious of my love and now she 
had told me she loved me. 

“Yes, Charley,” said she, “I love you. I have 
kept my heart all the' time, waiting for some man 
“fully worthy, and I determined when he should 
come I would at once let him know I loved him. 
I saw you first at the derrick, and almost imme- 
diately I was impressed by your looks. I found 
out the story of your life, and I sounded youi* 
friends and acquaintances. I found you all I ex- 
pected, and to-night I sit by your side and tell 
you I love you with as much confidence and trust 
in you as if I had known you for twenty years.” 

I was silent for a time. Then I could only say : 

“May you always find me worthy your trust.” 

Hen head sank down upon my shoulder. Her 
hand rested in mine and my lips touched hers. 
Just then there was a slight grating noise in the 
lock, and the key dropped on the floor inside. We 
both sprang to our feet. I would have burst open 
the door, but she held me back. 

“Obey me now,” she said. “Stay where you 
are.” 

A board on the walk, near the gate, creaked, 
and then all was still. There was but one ques- 
tion in both our minds. Had he seen us to- 
gether? We were directly in front of the key- 
hole, and it all depended on whether he had been 


89 


A Woman’s Way. 

able to see past the key which he had somehow 
turned. I was perplexed. 

“You must not go unprotected/’ she' whispered. 

She removed her shoes, stole to the stairway 
with all the stealth of a cat, and in a moment 
handed me a loaded revolver and some cartridges. 
I took them without a word, for I was already ac- 
quiring the habit of obeying without questioning 
the authority of this woman. 

“That man loves me, too,” she whispered. “But 
his love is low and beastly. You are not safe one 
moment in his company. Watch him as you would 
watch a cr.ouching lion.” 

I lingered a moment. The old clock struck 
eleven. I would have to begin work at the der- 
rick by twelve. 

“Call every evening this week,” she said. “To- 
morrow I shall drive over and take you out rid- 
ing,” and she looked at me half as though she ex- 
pected me to refuse her, “if it is agreeable to 
you.” 

I said, “Most certainly so,” and then, with a 
fond kiss, bid her good-night, and walking, re- 
volver in hand, passed without molestation to my 
room, changed my clothes, and was at the derrick 
making a fire under the boiler as my watch pointed 
to twelve. 


90 


Silenced by Gold. 


CHAPTER X. 

iHE GATHERING OE A STORM. 

Nothing of importance occurred early on Mon- 
day. The drill was rapidly sinking and we were 
nearing the Trenton limestone in which lay the 
oil, if oil we were to find. Along toward noon, 
Pitts, accompanied by Will, came out to the well. 
John had nothing to say to me. I was oiling 
the engine as he passed and walked into the rig. 
Will stopped a moment, and as he went on he re- 
marked : 

“I want to talk with you a few moments before 
you leave. When you get through oiling go over 
behind the boiler. I don’t want John to catch 
on.” 

I did as he requested, and in a few minutes he 
came out to me. His first words were not 
cheerful. 

“John told me all about yesterday and last 
night. He says you told him a lie, and that you 


The Gathering of a Storm. 91 

went with Miss Gray last night after telling him 
you were going with Miss Estes.” 

“I never told him,” I said, “that I was going 
with Miss Estes. I told him I was going to 
church, that was all. But I came home with Miss 
Estes, and I was with her in church.” 

“Charley,” Will said, “you may as well try to 
deal with the devil himself as with John, for he 
is now incensed at you, and you better care for 
yourself. He will do you an injury if it is in his 
power.” 

“I do not think it is in his power,” I rejoined, 
“for I mean to watch him as closely and carefully 
as he can possibly watch me. I know his chances, 
and I shall be on my guard.” 

“Do so,” said my friend, “and I hope it may 
all end well. But I have seen so much of that 
man that I almost fear him myself, and I fear for 
you. Now, I want to speak to you of another 
matter.” 

I wondered what it could be, and so kept silent. 

“You know,” he went on, “this well is a wild- 
cat. You also know the care with which Pankis 
and Co. will want the work done, in order to keep 
other companies in the dark. Young Pankis is 
coming out to-night or to-morrow. By that time 
we will be in the Trenton. He will have some 
things to say to us which will perhaps surprise 


92 


Silenced by Gold, 

yon, but I warn you you must agree to everything 
he says or asks or your prospects are forever 
ruined. The more danger to you from the fact 
that Pitts and Pankis are old chums. To-morrow 
morning they have agreed to call on Miss Gray 
and Miss Estes.” 

I did not understand him. What young Pan- 
kis could tell me about an oil well that I didn’t 
know, excited my curiosity, and what he had just 
told me of Pankis and Pitts made me angry. 

"If they could know,” I hastily said, “what 
Miss Gray thinks of both of them, perhaps they 
would not feel so self-confident.” 

“Never mind, Charley,” interposed Will, “I 
don’t want you to tell me anything. I will tell 
you all John says, but you and Mabel must keep 
your own secrets.” 

He turned and walked to the derrick. It was 
twelve o’clock, and as Jack and I took our empty 
pails and started to dinner I felt for the first time 
how tired I was. In the last thirty hours I had 
not slept a minute. After eating dinner we both 
lay down. I asked my landlord to wake me at 
six, and it seemed but a moment until I was 
called. After supper Mabel came, as she had 
promised. 

Can I ever describe that delightful evening? 
The sun was just setting behind the ridge of the 


The Gathering of a Storm. 93 

hill as we trotted down the road. She sat by my 
side, the soft color of the evening resting like a 
halo of glory around her. A few fleecy clouds 
mellowed the light of the sky, and over her head 
shone its indescribable loveliness. The angels of 
heaven must look so when their Maker smiles on 
them. I could think of nothing else. My entire 
soul was wrapped in the contemplation of my 
happiness in being near this perfect woman and 
knowing that she loved me. She was not un- 
affected by the scene. 

“Look, Mr. Ford,” she exclaimed, “can any- 
thing be more lovely? Those clouds are richly 
painted by the grandest Master who ever drew a 
brush, and that mellow sunlight might inspire a 
poet to rapturous melody with its softness. What 
a breeze ! Why, the elysian fields must appear so 
in the warm radiance of Eternal Beneficence. 
Nay, our own hearts feel the rapture of the even- 
ing. Do you know, I could spend eternity thus 
beneath the blue sky, with only summer suns, and 
clouds — and you.” 

As she ceased speaking she laid her little hand 
gently in my own and raised her eyes to mine. 
This strange woman, who was irresistible and ab- 
solute in her rule of others, had bent her heart, and 
was my love. Her eyes were filled with a soft- 
ness more beautiful than the golden twilight. 


94 


Silenced by Gold. 

“My darling/’ I whispered, “for you and you 
alone will I live. I am entirely yours. May our 
life be ever like this evening with its glow of 
glory.” 

The sun sank and the light grew dim and paled 
away. We rode on. Not a word had been said 
for nearly a half hour. But her hand lay in mine, 
and her head rested on the cushion by my side. 
Over us both was the eloquent silence which is 
the favorite speech of love. If the mind he cap- 
able of immediate, uninterrupted, unobstructed 
communication with a fellow soul surely it must 
be so when sitting thus in the thrall of the sub- 
lime passion two beings melt mentally into one. 

We had gone farther than we thought. On 
turning a comer a light road wagon drawn by a 
beautiful roan pony passed us. I was almost past 
the man in the wagon when I recognized him. 
It was Pankis. He had seen me with Mabel, and 
he was the confederate of John. 

“Was that not Mr. Pankis?” asked Mabel, with 
a quick glance. 

“I believe it was,” I answered. “But I didn’t 
expect him until to-morrow.” 

Then I told her all that Will had said, and she 
laughed. 

“I wonder what those two men take Miss Estes 
and me to be. We may live in the country and be 


The Gathering of a Storm. 95 

simple country lasses, but we have seen enough 
of the world to know such people as they. That 
man we' just passed is a conceited fool. His 
money has given him power, and he thinks his 
gold will purchase everything. There is one thing 
which it will never be able to buy.” 

“What is that ?” I asked. 

“A woman’s love. They may smile on him and 
pretend affection for him, but the sanctuary of a 
pure woman’s heart is too sacredly holy to be 
forced open by gilded fools. No, no, virtue is not 
yet quite gone from the earth. Money is not yet 
lord of all. There are some beautiful lives upon 
which its destroying finger has never rested. There 
are some it has blasted. Did I ever tell you the 
story of Uncle Michael’s courtship?” 

“No,” I answered, and she continued: 

“Uncle Mike and Aunt Mary met many years 
ago. She loved him from the first. I am much 
like her, she says, and, as I have done in selecting 
you, auntie quickly let him know she loved him. 
In less than a week he had told his. love. She did 
not accept him at once. She had another offer 
of marriage. Uncle was poor, this man wealthy. 
He came to her, professing to love her, and she 
hesitated only a moment before she refused him. 
Soon after she married uncle. They have always 
been happy together. But wealth has never come 


96 


Silenced by Gold. 

to them. There is but one thing Aunt Mary 
has to annoy her. Of late years uncle does not 
give her his confidence. For the past two years 
she has been an invalid. He cares for her with 
the same tenderness he has always shown. But 
on one subject, finances, he is strangely reticent. 
Since you came here he seems brighter. I believe 
he expects the oil to bring him a fortune. Dear 
uncle, could I but gain his confidence.” 

We drove slowly back. I parted from her that 
night with a kiss. I was dreaming I was a con- 
tractor, was rich, and had married Mabel, when 
Jack awoke me and we went to the derrick. 

The moon was bright, and the air soft and de- 
lightful. Never had I gone to work with better 
heart. When we reached the rig we found young 
‘Pankis there and also found that in the last hour 
the drill had entered the Trenton. 

Far, far below, hardly a sound now came up, 
and only the tense rope told of the work going 
on beneath. Yet so delicate is the driller’s touch 
and so perfect his knowledge of his business that 
Will had said at the first stroke of the drill on the 
hard rock: 

“We’ve got the Trenton, John.” 

It seemed to me a triumph over matter, this 
knowledge and skill of the slim, delicately-formed 
man, as he stood with his hand on the cable, de- 


The Gathering of a Storm. 97 

teeting and determining the actions of the pon- 
derous rod a quarter of a mile below him. 

As Jack and I entered I noticed that John’s 
breath was liquor-laden, and little Pankis had an 
unusually jolly countenance. Will hastened to 
tell us the news, and then they pulled out the 
drill. Pankis stood at a goodly distance, and 
when the bailing out began he gingerly came near 
to see the sand, which proved Will’s surmise. It 
was Trenton at last. 

When the bailing was done and we all had 
changed clothes, Pankis called us together. 

“Now,” he began, “I have something to say.” 

Will looked at me and I understood what was 
coming. 

“You know,” went on the young capitalist, 
“dad is making an experiment here. This well 
is a wild-cat. There are half a dozen companies 
watching the proceedings.” 

John interrupted him. 

“Well, hurry up. Tell us what we’re to do and 
how much you are going to give us.” 

I listened in wonder. It was all Greek to me. 
Pankis continued : 

“Now, what I want is this : you men will know 
in two days just what is here. There will be a 
score of oil men in every day asking questions. 
You must not tell them the truth. Wash out some 


98 


Silenced by Gold. 

sand every time you bail, and put it in the tool- 
box. And mind you keep it locked. Dad or I 
will be here most of the time. Don’t you let 
any one find out anything about the well. And 
if you strike anything suddenly, hold it up if you 
can and send for us. I’m going to stay near here, 
so you won’t have far to send. You know what’s 
the penalty if you disobey orders. No more jobs 
for you.” 

In almost the condition of slaves we stood, 
listening to this little crane-necked, spindle- 
legged dude giving orders we dared not disobey. 
Such is the aristocracy of wealth; or such, at 
least, is it in our petroleum field. Four strong, 
rugged men, for the sake of a living, receiving 
orders to tell untruths, and to conceal truth to 
please the whim of a boy. I thought of old Mike 
and what Mabel had told me, and I was about to 
protest when a look from Will, who had been 
watching me, restrained me. 

“Now, you know what to do,” reiterated Pan- 
kis. “Every oil man who comes in must be told 
an untruth. Let’s measure up now and see at 
what depth we struck the sand. Have a drink 
first, boys?” 

He produced a flask. Only one man of all ac- 
cepted his intended favor. It was Pitts. He 
drank long and heartily. 


The Gathering of a Storm. 99 

We measured the well and found twelve hun- 
dred and ten feet to the sand. 

“A good showing/’ said Jack, who hacj drilled 
many a well. "I think we’re safe for a gusher.” 

As Pankis, with Will and John, turned to leave 
the derrick, he said to me : 

"By the way, Chawley, that was a deuced pretty 
girl you was with when I met you to-night. Who 
was she?” 

I saw Pitts start, and an evil gleam come into 
his eye. I felt the blood rush to my face, but I 
answered : 

"Oh, a friend whom I met out here.” 

"It looked like that little Miss — what’s her 
name? Green, or something — or — other, whom 
I met here last week. I couldn’t see — it was get- 
ting dark, but you evidently were on pretty good 
terms, for I saw you holding her hand.” 

I did not answer, and as Pitts passed me on 
his way out, I could see his agitation, and fancied 
I could hear the grinding of his teeth. But he 
said nothing. 

I stood proud as a monarch, looking him in the 
face. Will looked first at one, then at the other. 
In a few moments I was alone with Jack Norton. 

L.of 0. 


100 


Silenced by Gold. 


CHAPTER XI. 

FOR LOVE, FOR MONEY, OR FOR BOTH. 

I did not know very mnch of what the driller 
endures and does for the sake of money. But I 
did not venture to disobey Pankis’ injunction to 
keep silent about prospects, and Wilks timely 
warning perhaps saved me from losing my place. 
When old Mike came out that morning and asked : 

“Well, Charley, my boy, how’s the outlook?” 
I did not answer by telling him depth and every- 
thing, I only said: 

“We are in the Trenton.” 

“In the Trenton? Whoop!” ejaculated the old 
man. “Golly, Charley, you’ll get ’er yet. And 
then old Mike can take it easy.” 

I could give him no hope that he' would reap 
many benefits from what we found, so I said 
nothing. Mike lingered around the derrick all 
that day. As he started away, he told me Mabel 
wanted to see me that evening and had sent me 


For Love, For Money, or For Both. 101 

an invitation to come over. I promised, and the 
farmer left. 

I was standing in the rig and had just finished 
dressing a bit, when a bustling, hurrying little 
man came in. He walked up to Horton, and 
recognizing him, said: 

“Hello, J ack, old man, you here !” 

“Guess I am,” answered the fat workman; “ain’t 
anywhere else I know of.” 

“How are you coming on with the well?” 

“Oh, finest kind,” was the hearty response. 

“Any indications of oil yet?” asked the little 
man. 

“Oh, lots of ’em,” said Jack. “Deep hole in 
the ground. Drill just a clackin’. Struck Tren- 
ton yesterday. Think we’ll strike something else 
soon, seeing we’re still going down.” 

“Come now, old boy, you’re joshing,” said the 
other. “Tell me all about it. You and I have al- 
ways been good friends. I have a lease on that 
land over there, and of course if you get oil here 
I know what to do. I have an option on that man 
Ford’s farm, too, and it shall depend on this well 
what I’ll do in his case.” 

“How, see here,” answered the driller, “Pankis 
gave us gouty last night. I dassent tell you 
nothin’ about this hole, and you know it. Un- 
less — well, you know.” 


102 Silenced by Gold. 

I heard every word, though this last was spoken 
in a low tone, and the noise of the clanging ma- 
chinery nearly drowned it. I understood the 
allusion. 

“Of course I am going to pay for it,” the 
stranger said. “Did you think I was going to 
try to pump you gratis? Come now, Jack, give 
me the information I want and I won’t squeal 
on you.” 

I started to leave the derrick, but Jack, per- 
ceiving that I had heard what had passed, called 
me back and said : 

“Stay here, Charley. You’ve heard enough now 
that you may as well be in it. Mr. Corning, this 
is Mr. Ford, my tool-dresser. He’s a cousin or 
something to the old man whose farm you were 
talking of leasing.” 

“Oh, well, then, he’ll be all right, for it may 
do his cousin lots of good.” He took my hand. 
He seemed like an honest man, and so I judged 
him. 

“Now, boys, to get to business,” he continued. 
“Here’s what I want. You can keep a little sand 
out now and then. Hide it somewhere. Keep 
me informed of the progress of the well. Tell 
me the straight truth when I come here. And 
name your price.” 


For Love, For Money, or For Both. 103 

“Hold on,” I said, “that’ is bribery. I want no 
bribe for telling the truth.” 

J ack looked at me as though I were some newly 
discovered animal. Mr. Corning took in the 
situation at once. He had thought me an “ex- 
perienced” hand. 

“What I mean is this, young man. Old Pankis 
is going to hold you to your bargain. He’ll make 
you keep everything dark. I don’t want that. 
Yet you needn’t tell everybody. I am working for 
your cousin’s benefit, and my own. You better 
agree.” 

A thought of the poor old man struggling to 
free himself from debt came before me. Then I 
thought of the white-gloved dude who was my 
master, and I stood undecided. 

“I leave it to Jack,” I said, at last. 

“Well, Corning, if that’s the case, I won’t prom- 
ise you to-day,” was Jack’s word. “I will think 
over this, and as long as Pankis don’t forbid I 
will tell you the truth. When he forbids, I’ll see 
about it. Now, if you blow on us you know the 
rest.” 

The man walked out. I stood looking at Jack 
for a moment. He asked : 

“All this is new to you, ain’t it, Charley ?” 

“I should say it was. I never knew there were 
such things done in this business.” 


104 


Silenced by Gold, 

“You see, my boy, you’re young. I’ve been 
through it over and over. I make lots of money 
for the old woman and the babies by knowin’ 
when to speak and when to keep my mouth shut. 
Do you know why I put him off ?” 

“No, why?” I asked. 

“To get an offer from Pankis. I don’t want to 
lose the chance for a good job.” 

“You are willing to take a bribe, then ?” 

“Them fellows have lots of money. They think 
it fair to offer. Why shouldn’t I take it ?” Again 
somehow the old man and his feeble wife floated 
before my vision. 

Mabel’s words came to me : “They have only one 
source of unpleasantness. He keeps his finances 
from her.” 

“Why, indeed?” I thought. For a long time I 
was silent, then I asked : 

“Is it certain we will have to sell our honor 
somewhere ?” 

“Certain sure. One or the other is bound to 
buy us. We must either lie to Pankis or to 
Corning.” 

My resolution was soon made. 

“Then I am going to do this,” I said. “I shall 
promise nothing to Pankis, and I shall tell every- 
thing to Corning. You may do as you like, but 
I intend to serve Corning, for the' sake of old 


For Love, For Money, or For Both. 105 

Mike’s welfare. I shall take no cent of money 
either.” 

“Oh, you’re cornin’ round all right. That’s the 
way I talked at your age too. But mum ! There 
come Will and John,” and Jack was busy at his 
work. 

Pitts looked darkly at me as he passed. Will 
only said, “Good morning.” 

I went to the boiler, filled the furnace, and was 
coming back, when Will accosted me: 

“Charley, have a care. John is very angry and 
will injure you if opportunity offers. Pankis saw 
you last night and told him all about it. He 
swore to me on the way up that he would have re- 
venge on you somehow or other.” 

I said nothing. But that afternoon my sleep 
was troubled. I thought of all that had occurred, 
of my enemy, and of my employer Pankis. I 
knew should they hear of my league with Corning 
they could ruin me forever. Then I thought of 
Mabel and I fell asleep feeling strong to make my 
way even in this troubled sea. 

Dusk found me at Mike Ford’s. Old Mike was 
hanging on the pump handle as I came up. Two 
or three pigs were squealing in a pen near by. He 
was just watering them, and he called me out to 
see them, as though I were there on no errand but 
to look at his pigs. 


106 


Silenced by Gold. 

“That tliere’n,” said he, “is a full-blood Poland- 
Chiney. She’s the prettiest little critter I ever 
riz.” I looked, and he went on : 

“Now, say, ain’t struck any ile yet, have you?” 

I answered we had not. 

“Them pigs squeal as if they never had no slop 
no time. I must go and get ’em some corn. When 
you git any indications you must let me know 
right away. I’ll give ’em two ears extry then. 
Say, pigs, won’t I stop yer squealin’?” 

The last was said to the porkers as he started 
for the corn-crib. I went to the house and was 
met at the door by Mabel. She looked lovelier 
than ever in the pretty pink wrapper with short 
sleeves. She had been clearing the supper dishes 
away, and her bare arms were rosy with exercise. 
My heart gave a great leap, and I longed to take 
her in my arms. 

“Oh, is it you ?” she said. “I was just thinking 
of you.” 

Happy moment in the life of a young man 
when the woman he loves acknowledges thinking 
of him. What were John, and Pankis and all the 
rest to me now? 

“You were expecting me, then?” I asked. 

“Of course I was,” she laughed, “and in ten 
minutes I shall be through with my work and we 
shall go for a walk if you are not too tired.” 


For Love, For Money, or For Both. 107 

What lover ever was? I went to talk with old 
Mike. She finished her work, and just as I was 
completely initiated into the mysteries of pig 
raising, coupled with inquiries into the oil future, 
she came down the step with a loose belt drawn 
around her pretty waist. 

How proudly I walked at her side. For a long 
time neither spoke. I noticed a look of concern 
on her face. At length, when we were' out of hear- 
ing of the old man, she said : 

“I have something to tell you, Charley.” 

“What is it?” I asked. 

“You must promise me two things, first.” She 
laid her hand on my arm. “You must promise 
never to go unarmed while you are working where 
you are, and never to work on another oil well till 
I give you permission.” 

“I cannot promise to quit working in the field,” 
I said. “How would I make a living?” 

“When you have heard what I have to say you 
will consider me right. Will you promise ?” 

So great was the power of this woman over me 
that I could not disobey her. I answered : 

“I promise, for love of you.” 

“Very well then, listen. To-day I received a 
visit from Pitts. He was accompanied by Mr. 
Pankis, who wished to see uncle about leasing 
his farm. While Pankis talked to uncle, Pitts 


108 Silenced by Gold. 

talked to me. Uncle has promised his lease to 
Mr. Corning, or rather has given him a twenty- 
day option. Pankis wished to lease the place and 
offered uncle two thousand dollars for the lease. 
But uncle would not let him have it after prom- 
ising Corning. Pitts explained everything to me, 
telling me what a nice man Pankis was and all 
that. When they left Pitts asked to call again 
and I refused him. He became angry and ac- 
cused me of being with you last evening. I told 
him the truth. He grew furious, and I had to 
request him to leave. Be on your guard. He 
means to injure you. If you can get through 
with your work here in safety you must never 
again work in the oil field.” 

I listened, and the lines deepened around me. 
Every hour the plot became more complicated. I 
was as a fly in a great evil spider web whose silken 
lines were becoming terrible in their strength. 
I determined to tell her all. When I had finished 
the story, she said, laying her hand in mine : 

“You are my lover indeed. Had you concealed 
one thing you would have done wrong. To-mor- 
row night you must come again and tell me all 
that happens. Together we will plan, and despite 
them all will win our case. Now, let us dismiss 
it from our thoughts and enjoy this evening.” 

The tinted clouds lay above the sunset and 


For Love, For Money, or For Both. 109 

against them rose the clear outline of the hill as 
if cut in burnished gold. The air was still and 
calm, and the least sound was audible in the si- 
lence. We could hear the puffs of steam from the 
exhaust like the rhythmical breaths of a great tug- 
ging beast. Ever and anon they came, short, 
sharp and quick as the long rope stretched enough 
to let the beam swing on the stretch. Then, with 
a groan, the weight of the stem made the great 
wheels creak and tremble. At this distance one 
would surely think it a living thing. And was 
it not the' living brain of man, embodied thought, 
working out a mighty purpose? Was not my life 
bound up in the result of that work ? 

The twilight deepened into night. Her hand 
was clasped in mine. Her eyes were radiant and 
beautiful. We had been slowly walking down the 
road. My arm stole about her waist. The loose 
belt permitted me to feel her slow rhythmic 
breathing. She loved me and was in my arms. 

One week ago I had not dared to speak to her, 
and she had only seen me as a tool-dresser. To- 
night she was mine and would one day be my wife. 
Had any man ever experienced a love so short, 
so deep, so complete? Like all lovers, mine was 
the only affection on earth and she the only being. 

Lost in our bright dreams we slowly retraced 
our steps. As we were nearing the house we came 


110 


Silenced by Gold. 

upon a figure sitting by the roadside. He rose 
and came toward us. It was Henry. 

The sight of that lonely man sitting by the 
roadside was like a pang to my soul. I was not 
an unobservant man, and I knew that Henry, too, 
loved Mabel. As we came up he extended his hand 
to me and asked if we had had a pleasant walk. 

“Oh, very pleasant indeed,” I answered. 

“You look extremely happy, cousin,” he said to 
Mabel. 

“I am,” she breathed, and her hand in mine 
pressed fondly. 

I thought I saw a shudder pass over him. But 
it was too dark to be certain. He looked at us 
both. 

“God bless you both. You seem to be intended 
for each other.” 

Mabel extended her hand and clasped his. 

“Ah, Henry,” she whispered, “if you only knew 
how I love him.” 

Our secret was no longer our own. He to 
whom it must cause the greatest pain was thus 
brought to share it with us. But the noble man 
stood strong and self-controlled before us and 
said: 

“May God bless your union. I believe each is 
worthy of the other.” 

This was our betrothal. 


The Storm Breaks. 


Ill 


CHAPTER XII. 

THE STORM BREAKS. 

On Wednesday we were at work hard all day, 
for the tool-dresser has a hard time' when drilling 
in the Trenton. The rock is so hard that it soon 
wears away the bits, and they have to be sharpened 
every half hour. J ack and I expected a visit from 
Corning that forenoon, for we knew Pankis 
would not return until evening. We had deter- 
mined to show Corning some sand which we had 
collected and washed, and to tell him everything 
as it developed. I thought this was best, and as 
Pankis had exacted, no promise we could do as 
we pleased. 

At half-past nine the man came. He called us 
together as on the day previous and asked our de- 
cision. When it was announced he drew out his 
pocketbook, but Jack stopped him. 

“Not now. Joe Corning, you and I have been 


112 


Silenced by Gold. 

friends a long while. I don’t want a cent for do- 
ing what I think is right. If Pankis tries to stop 
us then is time to talk of pay.” 

“Well, but I don’t want Pankis to know any- 
thing about it.” 

Corning said the words and was about to put 
the pocketbook in his breast when a plank creaked, 
and out from behind the sampson-post stepped 
J ohn Pitts. How long he had been standing there 
none of us knew. Whether he had heard our con- 
versation or not no one could tell. 

Corning ceased speaking at the first sound, and 
Jack and myself stood looking at him. Pitts ad- 
vanced into the derrick. Corning observed him 
closely, but John’s face did not show that he had 
heard anything. His step revealed that he had 
been drinking. 

Corning glanced meaningly at each of us. Then 
he spoke to John. 

“Mr. Pitts, these fellows are trying to guy me. 
I was trying to find out at what depth you struck 
Trenton. Won’t you tell me?” 

“Fourteen hundred and sixteen feet,” answered 
the tool-dresser without a moment’s hesitation. 

“Now, this man, what’s — his — name,” pretend- 
ing not to know Jack, “told me thirteen hundred 
eighty.” 

Pitts winked drunkenly at Jack, and said; 


The Storm Breaks. 


113 


“Only a small mistake, hardly noticeable/’ and 
we all saw he was on the wrong track. But he 
looked savagely at me. I felt no fear. I knew a 
story would be told to Pankis, yet so long as it 
was a lie and not the truth, I felt confident of 
final triumph. I knew, too, that Corning had 
been longer in the business than any of them, hav- 
ing started as a tool-dresser himself, and he could 
protect me. 

Pitts and Coming talked for a time, and then 
the leaser left and Jack asked : 

“Who was that fellow, John?” 

“That was Joe Corning, one of the richest fel- 
lows in the State. He has an option on old Mike’s 
land. Pankis offered to buy him out, but he 
won’t sell. He thinks he’ll find out something 
about this well. Not if I know it.” 

I thought perhaps he wouldn’t know it. I hoped 
not, at least. Will came in a little later and we 
were off tour. About two o’clock Corning drove 
up to our boarding-house and asked to see us. 
Jack was out. When he came back he had a bright 
face', and, speaking low, said: 

“I have great news for you, Charley. Corning 
has examined the sand we gave him this morning 
and finds it very promising. He says in two days 
we’ll strike a gusher, and then he’ll give you and 
me a job. I have five hundred dollars in bank. 


114 


Silenced by Gold. 

He will lend you enough to go partner with me. 
We’ll buy a string of tools and go to drilling for 
him.” 

My vision of the contractor’s life was rapidly 
materializing. But I thought of my promise to 
Mabel, and answered only : 

“I’ll think about it.” 

When we came to the derrick at midnight I 
found John at the boiler. He looked at me as I 
was passing and said : 

“I want to talk with you when you have changed 
clothes.” 

I went to the belt-house, put on my working 
garments and returned to the boiler. Will and 
Jack were at the well talking earnestly. I saw 
them glance toward us. We stood for a few mo- 
ments looking at each other. John spoke. 

“Charley Ford, what were you talking to Corn- 
ing about this morning when I came in ?” 

“I don’t see that I am compelled to answer that 
question,” I replied. 

“I’d advise you to.” 

“Your advice has little influence over me,” I 
said, determined to exasperate him and bring on 
the worst. 

“You are insolent,” he growled. 

“I mean to be.” 

“Why so?” 


The Storm Breaks. 


115 


“Because you have no business to question me/’ 

“You were walking last night with Mabel 
Gray.” The true cause of his displeasure was out 
at last. 

“Oh, that’s why you are so interested in my con- 
duct, is it ?” I sneered. 

“Yes, d — n you, and I will show you what kind 
of man I am,” he hissed. 

“Oh, for that matter, I know what kind of man 
you are, quite as well as I care to, and so does 
Mabel,” I answered, calmly. 

In a moment I saw a gleam. It was a pistol. I 
threw my hand behind me and Mabel’s gift came 
to view. 

I believe he would have fired, but there was a 
whistle, and a long iron bolt struck the revolver. 
It was knocked from his hand, and as it fell one 
shot exploded, and I heard the ball go singing 
up through the air past me. 

I coolly leveled the pretty, pearl-handled gun 
on him and said : 

“Yes, I perceive Mabel and I were both correct 
in our opinion of you. Thanks to her for this,” 
holding the revolver where he could not fail to 
see it, that is, with its muzzle pointing full in his 
face. 

Jack walked calmly out to where we were 
standing. 


116 Silenced by Gold. 

“Did you see' anything of an iron bolt out this 
way, boys?” he asked. “I let one slip out of my 
hand just now. It must have struck the boiler 
the way it cracked. Come, Charley, are you ready 
to go to work?” 

When the others were gone my driller turned 
to me. 

“If I hadn’t let that bolt slip, I think you would 
now be in eternity, my boy. That fellow will kill 
you if he gets a chance. He took good aim, and 
couldn’t have missed you at that range. But 
didn’t I hit the gun square?” 

“I am not afraid of him,” I said. “I can de- 
fend myself.” 

“Do so, and be careful where you talk with him 
in future.” 

At about three o’clock in the morning we were 
surprised by a visit from Corning. He examined 
some sand, and remarked : 

“Boys, you are near it. Has Pankis made any 
new rules ?” 

“No,” Jack answered, “he hasn’t said anything 
more.” 

“Well, be careful what you promise him to-day 
when he comes,” and the little business man left 
u&. 

About eleven that morning John, Will and 
Pankis came to the well. Old Mike had just gone 


The Storm Breaks. 117 

home after staying all forenoon to see us “strike* 
it.” 

No one was around but the four of us and the 
leaser. He examined the sand carefully, then he 
called us together. 

“Now, I have something more to say,” he be- 
gan. “That sand shows oil, as you know. Ten 
more feet will bring you to it. Now, on the first 
indications I want to know, and I don’t want you 
to move the drill till I come. This thing must be 
kept our secret. I am trying to get old Mike’s 
farm. I must have it, there is oil under it. Now, 
what I am going to ask is this. Every one of you 
come up and sign this paper saying you won’t tell 
a word of what is here for five years. If you do 
I will pay you fifty dollars each. If a single one 
of you refuse, you know the consequences. No 
more work for any of you.” 

“For any of you;” then if I refused it would 
ruin not my own prospects only, but those of the 
others as well. What could I do ? Plainly it was 
a conspiracy between him and Pitts to ruin me. 
We all waited for Jack to speak. 

“See here, Mr. Pankis,” said the fat driller, 
and his voice sounded steady and clear amid the 
clattering machinery. “I am not used to this sort 
of thing. I am not used to telling lies for money.” 

“Oh, bother,” sneered the young fellow, “old 


118 Silenced by Gold. 

as you are ! How much do you want ? A hundred 
dollars ?” 

“I don’t want anything but a little time to 
think/’ pleaded Jack, playing his part admirably. 

I saw Pitts glance from Jack’s face to mine, 
which I am sure must have shown my perturba- 
tion. Then his eyes wandered to the doorway, 
and I knew he was thinking of the day he saw 
Corning with us. He spoke. 

“I am ready to sign.” 

Will hung back. Then Pankis turned to me. 

“How about you ?” 

“Well, I don’t know,” I answered. “I am not 
used to this kind of thing, but if the rest all 
sign I suppose I’ll have to.” 

“Don’t you see how it will help out your cousin 
over there? I offered him two thousand for his 
lease. I’ve no doubt your little sweetheart has 
told you all about it.” 

J ohn’s face was livid, but I replied : 

“I want to do what is right, and if this thing 
isn’t right I’m not going to sign, and I donT care 
who suffers for it.” 

J ohn broke out : 

“Hear the preacher. How, Mr. Pankis, I have 
a word to say.” 

“What is it?” asked the leaser. 

“Only this. The other day as I came into the 


The Storm Breaks, 


119 


derrick I saw Joe Corning talking to Jack and 
this fellow. I heard him say, ‘I don’t want Pan- 
kis to find out about it.’ Now, I think you can 
see why these fellows hang back.” 

“Is that so. You fellows, I say, do you hear 
that?” began Pankis. 

Jack said nothing, so I kept silent. 

“What do you say to that?” 

Jack raised his head. I saw the gleam in his 
eye. 

“I say this. Joe Corning has been my friend 
for years, and if I want to talk to him, I have the 
right. I am not working for you ; I am not your 
slave. And if you presume to threaten me, I can 
leave that drill right where it is. My contractor 
is Keller, and you have no more right to say what 
we must do than I have.” 

The fellow was balked. Jack was not the man 
to do anything without calculating his ground. 
He went on. 

“Now, I’ll tell you what I will do. I will take 
twenty-four hours to consider, and then I will 
answer whether or not I will sign your paper. As 
for Charley, I am not going to ask him to give up 
his cousin’s welfare and his promised wife for 
your gold. And I am going to protect him. Last 
night I prevented that rascally spy of yours from 
shooting him, and I promise him that the next 


120 Silenced by Gold. 

time he attempts anything of that kind I will kill 
him/’ 

Pankis turned and walked away. He knew we 
were not his employes, and that he had no right 
but his money. He had supposed his gold a 
weapon invincible, but against truth and honor 
it had no power. It was a hard lesson for him. 
What a different place the world would be if peo- 
ple were not so willing to sell their honor and 
respect for gold, for the yellow metal whose power 
is at the throttle of progress to-day. It is the 
chemical reagent w r hich precipitates and removes 
all that is best and noblest from the heart of man. 

My friend and I were drawn closer together by 
our determination to thwart if possible the power 
of this man and bring to those who need it the 
wealth which we now knew lay concealed within 
the earth. 

That night I told Mabel all that had happened, 
and she said : 

“My lover, you are worthy a woman’s love. 
Whether fortune come or not, you have done 
wisely in withstanding the temptation to do evil. 
And Jack, the next time I see him I shall give 
him a kiss.” 

I hardly liked the latter remark. But I thought 
Jack would be handsomely rewarded. I should 
have felt so. 


The Storm Breaks. 


121 


But she gave me a kiss at parting that night, 
and I felt high hope in my breast, despite the 
dangers with which I knew myself to be sur- 
rounded. 


122 


Silenced by Gold. 


CHAPTER XIII. 
cut; the eope that held a life. 

When I went to the rig at twelve I felt that this 
day would decide much for me. We were about 
thirty-five feet in the Trenton, and every indica- 
tion was for a strong well. The best wells are 
struck under fifty feet, and this day’s work was 
the most likely to be successful. Should we strike 
a strong well, it could not be concealed; should 
the day pass with nothing, it was likely the hole 
would be “dry.” 

Pankis was there when we came, but he left 
with Will and Pitts. The boys had just run down 
the tools and it would not be necessary to bail 
out for half an hour, at least, so I went to the 
boiler and sat down. The drill ran heavy. So 
many feet below the surface was it, and the fric- 
tion was so great, the engine groaned even in its 
strength. I could hear the strain at every pulsa- 
tion of the piston. The great beam creaked like 


Cut; The Rope that Held a Life. 123 

some mighty beast crying out against its slu- 
pendous task. 

They were music to me, these sounds of labor, 
for every stroke ground away the few feet of rock 
which separated us from fortune, and which di- 
vided my sweetheart from untold wealth. I 
thought over the events of the days gone by, and 
like a wild sweet dream it all appeared. It 
seemed impossible that I should reach such happi- 
ness in three short weeks. And now in a few 
hours I could take Michael Ford by the hand, 
tell him of his coming wealth, and of my promo- 
tion, and ask him for the hand of the sweet 
woman whose heart was already mine. Oh, 
mystical passion, which can so raise the heart 
toward higher things and make men noble and 
true ! I was in an ecstacy of happiness. 

Suddenly there was a creak, a whistle of flying 
wheels, the hiss of steam, and the beam, released 
from its burden, swept up and down like a mad 
thing, while the engine with its terrible pressure 
fairly screamed in its furious flight. One moment 
I stood dumfounded, then I sprang toward the 
derrick. At the same time I heard Jack exclaim : 

“Damn !” 

I ran to him, and he had by this time stopped 
the engine. 

“Whafs the matter?” I cried. 


124 Silenced by Gold. 

“Throw on the bull-rope. Pull out at once. 
The cable has parted.” 

I hastened to obey. With desperate' haste Jack 
wound the rope on the reel at the utmost speed 
of the flying engine. In our haste we had for- 
gotten to detach the beam and the driller received 
several severe blows from the swinging screw. 
But he didn’t mind them, so great was his anxiety 
to get at the parted cable. 

At last the end seemed near and he slowed 
down. As the rope came out he stopped the ma- 
chinery and picking up the loose end walked 
hastily to the torch. 

He uttered one word: 

“Cut !” 

My heart sank like a leaden ball. I, too, looked 
at the cable. One strand had been left, and on 
it we had been working. Two showed plainly the 
mark of a knife, although they had been severed 
nearly twenty feet apart, in order to avert sus- 
picion. I looked at Jack. Ilis face was pale and 
ghastly. 

“Charley, they will accuse us. But either that 
dastard John, or the fool Pankis is at the bottom 
of this. Run and bring Pankis here at once.” 

I went and found the fellow sleeping soundly. 
So soundly, in fact, that it was half past one 
o’clock when he appeared in the derrick. 


Cut; The Rope that Held a Life. 125 

“Well, what’s the matter here ?” he asked. 

“The cable has parted. We’ve lost the tools/’ 
gasped Jack. 

“The devil you have!” 

“And the rope was cut.” 

“Let me see.” 

He took the end of the severed cord which 
meant so much to us, and examined it coolly. 

“Let me see. What time is it?” He drew out 
his watch. 

“Half past one. You bailed out once, did you 
not ?” 

“Ho. The drill had run but fifteen minutes.” 

“Why, it’s an hour and a half since I left.” 

“But we pulled the rope out, and then you were 
nearly an hour getting here,” said J ack. 

But it was of no use to argue the case. It was 
as we feared. The blame was to be attached to 
us. Clearly, Pankis knew the deed had been done 
and had planned a trap for us. 

“There is some mystery here; and I will soon 
have it cleared up,” he said. “But why didn’t 
you run down the fishing tools at once? The 
drill’s stuck by this time.” 

“I pulled out and intended to run them down,” 
answered the driller, “but when I saw the rope 
had been cut I thought it better to send for you.” 

“Well, who do you think cut it ?” 


126 Silenced by Gold. 

“I don’t know. I have nothing to say about 
that.” 

“You have your suspicions ?” asked the leaser. 

“Perhaps/’ answered Jack. 

“So have I/’ and Pankis looked straight at me. 
I felt his meaning, and I knew Pitts was at the 
bottom of it all. 

“Go to work now,” he went on, “see if you can 
catch it.” 

I saw the hand of a master in the work. The 
strands had been cut far apart, and not entirely 
severed. The third one had broken above the 
others. From the nature of the end in the derrick 
one could see how hard it would be to catch the 
frayed pieces in the well. Jack looked the picture 
of despair. It would be of no use to try to catch 
the rope; nevertheless we sent down a grapnel 
attached to the sand-line. 

Pankis watched the fishing for an hour or so, 
then he walked away, remarking: 

“Keep close at work, and when you get hold, 
let me know.” 

The tone of his expression showed he meant to 
enjoy a good long sleep. 

The grapnel slipped, or only brought up small 
pieces of frayed material, and we knew all was 
useless. Yet we toiled on. Both Jack and myself 
knew Pankis had gone away on purpose to throw 


Cut; The Rope that Held a Life. 127 

suspicion on our work. As I walked to the boiler 
and replenished the fire, or stood beside poor Jack, 
waiting for our tools to catch my heart sank 
steadily. My golden dream had vanished into a 
terrible mist of uncertainty. 

The first gray streaks of the morning came 
across the sky. I watched the dawning of the 
new day with despair clutching me. Jack did 
not look at my face, but I felt his sorrow, too, 
was great. For him this welFs success had meant 
so much. Corning would have helped him to be- 
come a contractor. But now all was uncertainty, 
gloom, disgrace, failure. And still the grapnel 
swung loosely and easily. 

“We can’t get the thing/’ said Jack, at last. 

“What are we to do?” I inquired. 

“Keep on trying till we lose something else; 
then let the thing all go and quit.” 

“Quit !” The words beat harshly on my nerves. 
Quit, and not yet certain of the result. Quit, and 
Mabel’s life, her uncle’s and mine hanging on 
the event. 

Just then I looked out in the gray morning, and 
coming toward us was old Mike, his face full of 
expectation. 

“Well, boys, have you struck it?” he shouted as 
soon as he came near enough to be heard. How 
could I tell him the truth ? 


128 


Silenced by Gold. 

I looked at him blankly, and he saw hopeless- 
ness in my face. He' stopped and stared. On the 
derrick-floor and everywhere were the ends and 
bits of rope that had been pulled out and cut off, 
and the whole place looked desolate enough. 

“Why, Charley, what has happened ?” he asked. 

“Nothing much,” I answered, “only a small 
fishing job.” 

“Did you lose your drill?” 

“I guess that’s about the whole matter,” said 
Jack, as he started to again draw up the grapnel. 
“Come, Charley, watch the engine. She’s pulling 
heavy. We’Ve got something.” 

I stepped quickly to the wheel, my heart beat- 
ing like a sledge. I could see the anxious look 
on old Mike’s face, and Jack grasped the line. 

“Whoa ! Back up !” shouted J ack, “we’ve got 
it at last.” 

I reversed the engine, and we stood for a mo- 
ment undecided. The drill had been so long in 
the well that the mud and sand had settled about 
it, and it would be a hard task to raise it. Old 
Mike’s eyes gleamed like coals. 

“Got her, have yer? Goody! We’ll find it 
yet !” 

He fairly danced about the derrick. 

‘‘Now, then, let me have the engine, Charley, 


Cut; The Rope that Held a Life. 129 

we must pull carefully or we will lose our grip,” 
said Jack. 

He took the wheel. Slowly, so slowly that it 
seemed ages to me, the rope tightened. My every 
nerve was strained even to the tension of the cable. 
Would the drill move? Would the grapnel hold? 
We could hear the tense fibers grate on each other 
as the steam crept into the cylinder. So silently 
was all moving that I could hear Jack’s breaths 
as they came, short, quick, and expectant. Slowly, 
slowly the rope tightened. Then as the pressure 
increased there was a moment when the engine 
tugged hard at the great rod below, and we all 
held our breath. Then with a scream from the 
exhaust pipe the engine flew into fierce motion. 
Something had given way. 

I sprang to stop the machinery, but Jack said: 

“Let it come up, Charley. I can’t tell whether 
the grapnel slipped or the line gave way.” 

On, on, flew the machinery, and the rope like a 
flying serpent coiled from the well. We slowed 
down, and before we had time to stop, the rope 
loosened, dangled, and in a. moment the frayed 
end shot out of the well, slid through the pulley 
up aloft, and fell to the ground outside. 

The sand line had parted and the grapnel was 
iost. 

I glanced at Jack. His countenance had turned 


130 


Silenced by Gold. 

pale as ashes. He shut off the engine, and turn- 
ing, walked suddenly into the belt-house. Old 
Mike looked at me, and all the light of expecta- 
tion had died from his eyes. 

“What has happened, Charley?” he gasped. 

“The grapnel is lost and we will have to aban- 
don the well,” I said, giving myself entirely up 
to my feelings and forgetting to even make lighter 
the calamity of the farmer. 

The poor old man turned his face from me. 
His shoulders seemed to contract and bend for- 
ward with his grief, and his whole form seemed 
to age in an instant. When he turned again to 
me there was a look of hopeless despair in his eyes 
that was pitiful to behold. 

“Charley, can nothing be done ?” he groaned. 

“I fear not, uncle; it’s an almost hopeless 
case.” 

“And when they was so near it, too. I had 
risked my life on this here well.” 

“Yes, uncle,” I said; “it meant a great deal to 
all of us.” 

In that brief few minutes I hade farewell to the 
contractor’s life, for I knew the villainy of those 
who were my enemies. If they could prove that 
we had cut the cable, and now the circumstantial 
evidence was strong, my dream would have a rude 
and sudden awakening. Seeing Jack sitting on 


Cut; The Rope that Held a Life. 131 

the side of the forge, I went to him with the 
question : 

“ J ack, what can we do ?” 

“Nothing but wait for Pankis. I am not going 
to send for him again if I fill this hole full of 
fishing tools. You go chunk up the boiler; we’ll 
eat our breakfast and then try another grapnel. 
We can lose another one at least.” 

I went to the boiler. My pail had been un- 
touched, and as I opened it, I felt very little incli- 
nation to eat. Old Mike came and sat beside me. 
I could not look in his face. 

“Charley,” he began. I listened, but said no 
word. He stopped and I looked up. His eyes 
were filled with tears, and I felt my fortitude 
leaving me. He reached out his hard, work-de- 
formed hand. I clasped it and for a moment he 
was silent. 

“It couldn’t be helped,” he said. “But I had 
built so many hopes on this here well. Them, rich 
people can stand it, but what am I goin’ to do? 
Charley, you’re a straight boy, and I am goin’ to 
tell you all about it. You see, when I was mar- 
ried I hadn’t a cent. Mary and me loved each 
other, and we thought we could live. When 
Henry was born I said I was goin’ to give him an 
education. He was the best boy, and the most 
obedient you ever seen. We scraped and dug and 


132 Silenced by Gold. 

sent him to school. But it took all my money. 
Then Mabel’s pa and ma died, wife’s brother, he 
was. We took Mabel, and she had considerable 
money. I was ’pointed her guardian, and I took 
the money to use for her. I invested it, but most 
of it’s been lost. I never told Mary what’s be- 
come of it. She thinks Mabel spent it at school 
and at her uncle’s where she stays in the win- 
ter. But her and Henry was both savin’, and I 
lost the money in a land deal. I bought some 
swamp land. It fell and I had to sell for half 
what I paid. I mortgaged my farm to pay out, 
and now that’s about to be took away. Last 
week Pankis offered me two thousand if I’d lease 
to him. But here I thought we’d get a well, and 
then Mr. Corning, another oil man, had an option 
of twenty days. Now I s’pose Corning won’t want 
it, nor Pankis neither, and Old Mike can go to 
the poorhouse. It’ll kill my wife and my boy and 
girl. They don’t know nothin’ about none of it 
and when I tell ’em, what will they say?” 

Poor man ! It was indeed pitiful. Who would 
have imagined that on that well so much of hap- 
piness or misery could rest? Who would have 
supposed that the lives of so many would be 
placed at stake and lost in the wild-cat well on 
the Pankis lease. 

I had finished my little breakfast, for I could 


Cut; The Rope that Held a Life. 133 

not eat, and re-entered the rig. That twenty feet 
square of heavy planks ! How like a stage it was 
to me now, and how fatal to me had been the 
catastrophe of the drama. I took a long line, and 
climbing to the. top of the rig, again drew the 
broken sand line through the pulley and started 
to descend. 

Suddenly my foot slipped, and I felt the lad- 
der go from beneath my feet. I clutched wildly 
at the air and knew that I was falling. For a 
moment thoughts rushed like a wild sea over my 
mind. Then my arms caught something. I 
grasped it and opened my eyes. I had fallen 
about ten feet, and was hanging by a girt with 
sixty feet of open space beneath me. 

No one below had seen my accident, and a 
strange thought passed through my mind. How 
Jack would have jumped if I had come down 
plump at his feet. I laughed with that strange 
feeling which sometimes comes over one when 
after great mental strain there is a moment of 
relaxation. Long and loudly I laughed and 
looked out over the green fields. But it was not 
the laugh of merriment, it was like the explosion 
of a tense safety valve, when the pressure within 
has become unbearable. 


134 


Silenced by Gold. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

GLOOM. 

On Saturday morning the casing was drawn. 
I felt while working at this, and when the can- 
non ball which closed the well slid from my hand 
with a rush to its resting place, that the earth 
was falling upon the coffin of my hopes. When 
old Mike, who had watched the fishing with the 
desperation of a drowning man clutching at a 
straw, heard the hollow sound of the ball on the 
rock below, he turned away toward home, saying 
as he did so : 

“Charley, the pigs are all dead now.” 

When he had left and we were alone, for Pan- 
kis only caihe to inquire how the work was pro- 
ceeding, Jack came and sat beside me. 

“Charley,” he said, when the engine whose throb- 
bing had been the pulse beat of my hope had 
grown still as a human heart in death, “it’s all 
over now. They are coming this afternoon, Kel- 
ler, Pankis and the rest, to investigate the cable 



Gloom. 135 

cutting, and I am afraid it will go hard with you 
and me.” 

“What shall we do?” I asked. 

“We must arrange that now. I am for stand- 
ing my ground and accusing John Pitts. I be- 
lieve he did it. We are at least not going to 
plead guilty.” 

“But we have no proofs against John.” 

“They may be found. What reason had we to 
cut the cable ? They won’t take it into court, for 
Pankis’s attempt to bribe us would all have to' 
come out, and then they might find out more 
things in course of the trial than were dreamed 
of when it commenced. You have a good case 
against Pitts for attempting to shoot you. No, 
they will try to intimidate us. I believe the whole 
thing was done to keep Coming from finding out 
about the well.” 

So we laid our plans carefully, and knew every 
point we were to touch. When Keller and Pan- 
kis came out that afternoon we were all four called 
to the derrick, and the investigation began. John 
Pitts had not spoken to me since the loss of the 
drill. And in all this time I had never once seen 
Mabel. 

Keller looked anxious as he came into the rig. 
Pankis smirked about and looked no one in the 
face. Pitts had been drinking. 


136 


Silenced by Gold. 

“Now, my men/’ began Keller, and we all felt 
what we were to undergo, “there is a little mys- 
tery connected with the loss of this drill. You 
all agree the rope has been cut. Now, who 
cut it?” 

He looked round. Not a face changed. 

“I have been told by Mr. Pankis,” he continued, 
“that he was informed of the loss of the drill 
about one hour and a half after you two men,” 
looking at Jack and me, “went on tour. He says 
when he came you had as yet made no attempt to 
recover the drill, although you knew the settling 
of the sand would make it stick. He also says 
that you were alone during much of the fishing, 
and that everything lost was lost while you were 
on tour.” 

This was true. But I did not then know that 
while Will and John were on tour no fishing was 
done. Our case looked dark. We understood at 
a word that Keller had been pumped full of the 
other side of the story, and we knew the force of 
prejudice. 

“Hold on a little,” said Jack, “I see you have 
their side of the story. Now listen to mine.” 

And as if in a court of justice, he spoke clearly 
and strong. 

“When Charley and I came to the derrick that 
night these three men were working. They told 


Gloom. 


137 


us that they had just run in the tools. Hereto- 
fore they always lingered after we came, but that 
night they left at once. I noticed that John in 
changing his clothes kept on his driller’s shi' h 
We thought nothing of that. But in fifteen min- 
utes the rope broke. I pulled out quickly, in- 
tending to run down fishing tackle. Then I saw 
that the cable was cut and sent Charley after Pan- 
kis. He brought him — an hour later. There’s 
your hour and a half. Now, what I have to say 
is this : I think the man who cut those ropes is 
here, and I think that is the man,” and con- 
temptuously he pointed to Pitts. 

John fired immediately: 

“What did I have to do with it? You can’t 
prove it.” 

“I don’t mean to try,” coolly answered Nor- 
ton. “But I think we can produce those who will, 
if it ever becomes necessary.” 

“Oh, come now, men,” broke in Pankis, “don’t 
think of that, for I was in the derrick until twelve 
and Mr. Pitts was at work all the time. I can 
clear him easily enough.” 

“But your oath doesn’t go very far, I am in- 
formed,” said Jack. The little leaser, who had a 
few weeks previous figured in a libel case, winced 
perceptibly. 

Keller interrupted : 


138 


Silenced by Gold. 

“Well, I see this is pretty sharp. You two sets 
of men seem to be not exactly on the best terms. I 
had no idea of accusing any of you of cutting the 
rope, but thought you could help me find the real 
culprit. But you seem to suspicion one another. 
Now, what reason have you to suspect any one 
here? Why should any of you wish to cut that 
rope ?” 

Pankis looked startled. Plainly he was afraid 
we were about to expose his attempt at bribery. 
I glanced at Jack. His face was changing ex- 
pression to a smile. He stood a moment unde- 
cided. Then he said : 

“The reason that fellow Pitts would want to 
cut the rope and cut it just when he did is be- 
cause he has a spite at Charley for winning a girl 
he was mashed on. Naturally, if he could throw 
the blame on Charley, it would be a sweet re- 
venge.” 

“What the devil do I care about his girl ?” broke 
out John. 

J ack went on : 

“You seemed to care one night. The night I 
let the holt slip and hit the boiler. Do you re- 
member ?” 

Pitts did remember. He scowled first at Jack, 
then at me, and was silent. Pankis was relieved. 


Gloom. 139 

Jack had not informed, and had refrained purely 
for the sake of the poor little capitalist. 

“I don’t like to let this matter go,” said Kel- 
ler, “if it can be found out who did it. I think 
I shall not say any more this morning.” 

We knew what that meant. It was going into 
court. I shuddered. All about Corning and Pan- 
kis must come out. Mabel would be compelled to 
become a witness. It would be a disgraceful af- 
fair and would certainly result in no good to any 
of us. 

Keller turned to us: 

“All has been done that we can do. I think you 
may string out the tools, what are left of them, 
and get everything ready to move, and then you 
are all discharged. I may have work for you next 
week, somewhere elae. If I do I will let you 
know.” And he walked away with Pankis. 

We dismantled the rig. I went out to my old 
seat by the boiler. The woodpile was almost 
gone. Only a few cords remained, and the boiler, 
stackless and cold, looked so desolate that I felt a 
great weight of sorrow press me down. 

And this was to be the end of it all. My hopes, 
my bright visions ! Mabel’s face was before me. I 
thought of her and of the great gulf which sepa- 
rated us from each other. It was impassable. 
The men were working in the engine-house pre- 


140 


Silenced by Gold. 

paring the machinery for removal, and no one saw 
me. I was about to turn away to the belt-room, 
change my clothes and leave the place, when a 
voice spoke near me : 

“Charley.” 

I turned. It was Henry. He had come up be- 
hind me. His face was set and white. I grasped 
his extended hand, but could say nothing. 

“I want to speak with you. Are we alone?” he 
said. 

“The others are now changing clothes in the 
belt-room. They may he out any minute,” I 
answered. 

“Then come over this evening. Mabel wants 
to see you, too. I know all and can perhaps help 
you.” And turning, he went away unseen by the 
others. ' 

As we went to our boarding-place, Will walked 
by my side. John was ahead, and Jack lingered 
to lock the tool box, then came slowly on behind. 
My heart was heavy and Will noticed my de- 
jected appearance. 

“Cheer up, my boy,” he said. “We’ll come out 
all right yet. Don’t yield to despondency.” 

“But,” I said, gloomily, “what is there to cheer 
me up? You all believe I cut that rope, and it 
will be proved against me. What hope is there in 
that?” 


Gloom. 


141 


Will looked at me steadily and said: 

“Don’t fear in the least, Charley. There wonT 
be another word said about that. It will never go 
to court. Pankis will be only too glad to keep it 
out. If it should, Jack and I have a story to tell.” 

This, then, was what Jack had meant. I looked 
at Will and saw the honest soul of the man in 
every line of his face. I knew that he had been 
acquainted with John for a long time and had 
no love for the man. And he spoke so confidently 
that I felt happier. A great load seemed to roll 
away. Visions of the iron bars had been floating 
before me like streaked snow clouds across a win- 
try sky. But although the mist was clearing I 
could not as yet see Mabel’s face. 

As the evening drew toward night I prepared 
to take my leave of Mabel. I could see nothing of 
the future but darkness. The passing of the min- 
utes seemed an age. But I knew it was to be our 
last meeting and the knowledge was painful. J ohn 
Pitts had been driving round with Pankis all 
the evening. They had gone to Milton after a 
rig builder to tear down the derrick. When we 
sat down to supper I saw that John’s face was 
flushed and his hand nervous. He talked and 
joked with Pankis, who had also been imbibing 
freely. When they saw I was dressed they all 


142 


Silenced by Gold. 

began to laugh. Jack, who sat near me, leaned 
toward me and whispered : 

“Be careful to-night.” 

It was exasperating in the extreme to sit and 
listen to the coarse jests and drunken oaths of the 
man who was planning my destruction and not to 
throttle him on the spot. Then I looked at the 
little capitalist and his white hands made me 
angry. Had he ever known what labor and love 
could mean he would have looked on himself with 
a different favor that night. Conceited and vain, 
I thought of him with contempt and with pity for 
his black heart. 

No direct words were passed, but I knew some- 
thing was to occur that night. After supper as I 
went out I heard J ohn remark to Pankis : 

“How for some fun.” 

As I placed the little revolver in my pocket I 
thought that likely there would be two in the 
fun. 

The evening was clear and pleasant. The June 
air was fragant with the breath of flowers, and 
the late birds flew lazily to rest. Night came 
calmly stealing on, and one could think of noth- 
ing else but peace. My pulses throbbed and I was 
blind to the beauties of the place and hour. I 
noticed it, but it all seemed like a mockery to 
me. There was nothing cheerful in the clear blue 


Gloom. 


143 


sky and perfumed air. The hum of homeward 
flying bees was like a funeral dirge in my ears. 

She met me at the door. Beautiful and strong, 
with the light of evening falling all about her. 
My royal queen ! 

“Mabel l” I whispered, as I took her hands in 
mine. She suffered me to raise them to my lips, 
then said: 

“You must come in and speak to uncle.” 

I obeyed. She led me into the sitting-room, and 
there in the old armchair he was. Poor man, 
his face was pale and white. They had placed a 
pillow beneath his head, and he lay back upon 
it in silence. What remedy is there for a wrecked 
life? Thou potent charm, gold, when thy in- 
fluence is suddenly removed, when the wild desire 
for power and independence is suddenly balked, 
what weak creatures we become. Could some great 
power give to worth its true reward, and to wealth 
its just deserts, what fortunes would be disbursed 
and what numbers of poor men he made wealthy. 
After all, is money the true measure of merit? 
Is it not too true that more often wealth is the 
result of fraud and deceit and the curse of its 
possessor ? 

All his life old Mike had labored to become in- 
dependent, and now, when the golden goblet was 
at his lips, the fickle jade, fortune, had dashed it 


144 


Silenced by Gold. 

to the earth, shattered and irreparable. He turned 
his eyes upon me despairingly. There was no 
longer in them the light of judgment, and he was 
to be as a little child. 

“Well, Charley, have you struck it?” he said. 
“Go and tell Henry to turn the pigs in the clover 
field. I told her, Charley, and she said it was 
all right. They couldn’t help it, and I know they 
will strike it yet. If them pigs don’t stop their 
squealin’ I’ll have to give them some com and 
none of us can’t afford it.” 

He turned his face from me. Mabel was weep- 
ing. Just then the wife entered. The old man’s 
calamity seemed to give her a new strength. She 
kissed him fondly and turned to me. 

“He told me last night that you knew and could 
fell me everything. What has he kept from us?” 

The burden must then devolve upon me. 

“We know the well has been a failure,” she 
continued, “but why has Mike been so anxious 
about it? He has kept many things fyom me 
lately.” 

“Mary,” and the old man again glanced, up, 
“has that little cow been fed this evening? I’m 
afraid Henry won’t take good care of her while 
I am gone.” 

“Don’t worry about her, dear, Henry will care 
for her,” and the old lady stooped and put back 


Gloom. 145 

a thin white lock that hung over the old man’s 
face. 

I walked to Mabel’s side. 

“Can I not talk to you alone for a little?” I 
asked. 

“We will go outside/’ she said. 

“Auntie, Mr. Ford and I are going for a walk. 
He will tell you everything when we return. Take 
good care of uncle and we will be back soon. Here 
comes Henry from the feeding and we will not 
be needed at once.” 

Henry came in. Seeing me, he spoke kindly. 
He was in the farmer’s clothes and had been feed- 
ing. As we passed the pen the pigs w^ere squealing 
and I thought they looked lonely. 

I was alone with my darling. We were to 
share together our first great disappointment. 


146 


Silenced by Gold. 


CHAPTER XV. 

THE ROCKS OP FATE. 

Ah, how my heart beat as I walked beside her. 
We did not go far. On the same log on which 
we had once found Henry we sat down. 

“Now, Charley, tell me all about it,” she whis- 
pered. 

I drew her into my arms. She did not resist. 
How I loved her then. I would have held her 
longer, but she gently disengaged herself and again 
requested me to tell her all. I told her everything, 
how the drill had been lost, of the accusation that 
was hanging over me, of old Mike’s visit to the 
derrick, and the story he had poured into my 
ears. My arm was about her waist as I spoke, 
and gradually her head drooped forward till it 
lay upon my shoulder. I could feel a sob shake 
her frame. 

“You must let me tell auntie,” she said. “Poor 
uncle, he came home that day stern and silent, 


The Rocks of Fate. 


147 


and so he remained till yesterday, when he began 
talking like a little child. He fancies himself 
away from home, and is anxions to get back. We 
try to make him cheerful, but now I see that his 
spirit is broken.” 

“My darling girl,” I said, “something may still 
be done. I am no longer Keller’s hand, nor Pan- 
kis’s slave, but am free to do as I choose, an d 
I am going to see Joe Corning. But for John’s 
miserable villainy, we might this evening be secure 
of the future. I am sure there is oil here and 
I am going to find it.” 

“But,” she said, “do you know the dangers that 
are ahead ? What are uncle and aunt to do, for, if 
Corning should consent to lease the place and drill 
the mortgage would be closed before anything 
could be done, and another man would possess 
the land.” 

My heart sank. Mabel seemed to be slipping 
farther from me every moment. 

“What then?” I asked. 

“Alas, I do not know,” she responded, “but do 
not despair. You are strong and young and can 
make a living for yourself. We will do the best 
we can. I can go with Miss Estes and help her 
in her work and Henry can make a living for 
uncle and aunt. He intends teaching the schools 
at Milton this year.” 


148 


Silenced by Gold. 

But her plan gave me no hope. 

“But will I have to part from you forever ?” 

“Let us hope not. Let us hope that in the years 
to come we may meet again. But if we do not 
you will soon forget me. We have known each 
other so short a time that you will easily forget I 
ever lived.” 

But her heart was beating against my own, 
where I had drawn her, and we felt that forgetful- 
ness was never to come to either of us. The mem- 
ory of this sweet association and its most bitter 
close was to follow us all our lives. How long I 
held her thus I know not. Man that I was I 
felt hot, scalding tears burn furrows in my 
cheeks. Neither spoke, for our hearts were almost 
breaking. Divine silence, it is oft the soul’s most 
eloquent communion. 

Then, softly, she drew herself away from me 
and spoke: 

“Come, I must go in now, and tell auntie. She 
is so feeble, and to think that now she must lose 
even this place, which she has learned to call 
home.” 

Never once had the noble girl spoken of her 
own little means, so totally lost by her uncle. Her 
unselfish heart had forgiven him everything. ' 

I diu not go in the house. She went to tell 
her aunt, apd Henry came to me. 


The Rocks of Fate. 149 

“Cousin,” said I, “we are all unhappy to- 
night.” 

“Yes,” he answered, “Mabel has told mother 
your story. She is not shocked; she had been ex- 
pecting it. Her only care is for father, who still 
sits as you left him, murmuring of the farm and 
the stock.” 

“Can we not do something?” I asked. 

“Ah, I regret that Mabel’s money, too, was lost. 
Had that not been, you could have married her 
at once. I will pay it all to her some day,” he 
continued. “You will make her happy. Dear 
cousin, her heart is yours; take her for your wife 
at once.” 

I told him it could not be. I told of the ac- 
cusation upon me, and of my inability to support 
her as yet. He saw I was right. Then, I told 
him our plan. 

“But I cannot endure to see her left to make her 
own way. Charley, she has been more than a 
cousin to me, and I cannot bear to see poverty 
come to her.” 

He saw I understood, and he went on: 

“I loved Mabel and have held her up as my 
ideal. But I did not call it love. I called it 
esteem, and respect, and fancied that she could 
be happy with me. She met you two weeks ago, 
and I saw that you had won her heart. Then I 


150 


Silenced by Gold. 

knew what love meant. But I have conquered it 
all. God bless you, Charley, you are a good man. 
Be worthy of the woman whose very soul you 
possess. I have accepted the Milton school, and 
can make a home for father and mother. It is 
best Mabel does not live with us, for I care too 
much for her already. Do not keep her waiting 
long. She loves you and does not ask that you 
be rich.” 

I had always pictured myself bringing my bride 
home to a beautiful mansion, and it was hard to 
give up the vision. 

“I will go in now/’ he said. “You must see 
Mabel once more before you leave.” 

He started. I stood for a moment, almost reel- 
ing, then followed him to the house. At last the 
dreaded hour had come. 

When I entered, old Mike turned his head 
toward me and then inquired who I was. His 
wife was weeping softly. Mabel sat pale, yet com- 
posed. Henry spoke: 

“Charley says he must be going. He goes to 
Ireton in the morning, and we must all bid him 
good-bye. Father, you wish to say ‘good-bye’ to 
Charley, don’t you?” 

The old man looked at me. 

“Yes, yes, him and me was both there when 
they struck it. I gave the pigs an extra ear apiece, 


The Rocks of Fate. 151 

too. How they did squeal. But they have got 
still now.” 

I took his hand. The tears were in my eyes. 
He looked up with an expression of utter help- 
lessness and said, “Good-bye,” as I turned from 
him. A total wreck, a life broken upon the rocks 
of fate. 

Mary, the faithful wife, came next. She only 
said: 

“Be a good boy, and may God bless you. I care 
only for Mike’s sake and Henry’s.” 

Ah, love strong and deathless, which holds the 
loved one up, when self is sunken in despair. 

Henry’s fine, cultured face had new lines in it 
to-night. I saw the struggle within. It was the 
sublime renunciation of self. He did not speak, 
but held my hand in silence. 

There was one more. The moment had come. 
She followed me to the door. Henry came and 
softly closed it behind us. 

“Mabel, Mabel, can it be?” and she was in my 
arms. 

“Hope on. Love is strong, and heaven is just.” 
Then her voice broke and she buried her head on 
my breast. 

Despair was clutching desperately at me. A 
flood of wild thoughts ran through my mind. I 
thought of asking her to be mine now, to share 


152 Silenced by Gold. 

my poverty, then my manhood triumphed and 1 
felt I could wait patiently. I would not drag 
her to a miserable fate, and an unknown future 
of unhappiness. 

Slowly we drew apart and stood looking fondly 
; at each other. I was about to go. It seemed 
for the last time our eyes met. I held out my 
arms to her. I kissed her again and again. 

All at once a step sounded on the walk. I 
looked hastily about. A dark form was coming 
toward us. He approached. She raised her head* 
but my arm was about her waist. So we stood, 
awaiting the comer. 

It was John Pitts. 

He came on, nearer and nearer. She looked 
terrified, then nestled closer to me. He spoke: 

“Oh, it’s you, is it? I came to bid Miss Gray 
‘good-bye/ but it appears she is otherwise en- 
gaged at present.” He stopped almost beside us 
and I caught the odor of his drink-laden breath. 

For a moment all stood silent. Mabel was the 
first to recover her self-possession. She stepped 
between us, and, turning to Pitts, said: 

“Just a few words with you. Why did you 
come here to-night?” 

“To bid you good-bye,” he said, shortly. 

“Why have you been drinking?” 

“I have not.” 


The Rocks of Fate. 153 

“It is too plain. One more question. Why 
did you cut that cable the other night ?” 

A shock passed over him. But he recovered 
his composure immediately, and said: 

“I did not cut it. He did it,” trying to indi- 
cate me. 

“Now don’t tell me an untruth. You did it 
and you know it.” 

He stood for a moment wavering. Then he 
looked across at me and hissed: 

“I will get even with you for this.” 

He turned and walked away. We heard the 
sound of wheels down the road and we knew that 
Pankis had been waiting for him. 

Mabel looked up at me. 

“A moment more and I would have had a 
confession from him. I have enough at least 
to save you.” 

“You were thinking of me, then?” 

“Yes, and I will always think of you. Be 
careful of that man. If you can help it, never 
work as tool dresser or driller on another well, 
and at least promise me you will never do so 
unless you know the whereabouts of John Pitts.” 

I promised, and together we sat down upon the 
doorstep. The stars seemed to look down in 
benediction upon us. It was long after midnight 
when I rose to leave, and we knew that John had 


154 Silenced by Gold. 

gone to Pennsylvania on the midnight train from 
Milton. 

We had planned all the future. It seemed to 
me then that there were rose-tints even thus early 
showing through the dark storm-clouds. Happy 
we, if they were not lightning flashes, tokens of 
the fierce tornadoes that might be upon the way. 
As I clasped her for the last time in my arms 
and pressed my lips to hers, the gray dawn of the 
morning was beginning to touch the northeast into 
beauty. The smaller stars had faded one by 
one. Inside the house we could hear the labored 
breathing of the old man in his troubled sleep, 
and a careful step now and then told that his wife 
was awake and by his side. I thought that per- 
haps the darkest night of our sorrow had passed 
by, and hope even then drew faint gray streaks 
across the measureless depths of despair. A 
rainbow bridge it was, stretching from earth to 
the Asgard of happiness. 

I didn’t lay my head upon a pillow that night. 
In the morning Jack separated from me at the 
station in Milton, with a cheery: 

“Keep a good heart, Charley. I am going to 
see what can be done with Corning.” 

We, also, had laid plans. He was to see Corn- 
ing and I was to go back again to the old pump- 
station near Ireton. When he wanted me he was 


The Rocks of Fate. 155 

to simply let me know, and I was to come to him 
at once. 

Two weeks later, as I lay in my boiler-house, 
listening to the barkers as they screamed through 
the bellowing storm, I held a letter in my hand. 
It was from Mabel. 

“I am with Miss Estes,” she wrote, “and am 
learning sewing very rapidly. Uncle and aunt 
and Henry have found a house at Milton and are 
moving to-day. Uncle is much the same. He 
talks of oil wells and farms, and fortunes con- 
stantly. We gave up the farm without a mur- 
mur. The derrick is removed from the Pankis 
lease, and Henry told me yesterday that it was 
abandoned entirely. Ho more wells are to be 
drilled. Henry heard Keller talking to a man 
the other day. The man had heard a rumor about 
the cutting of the cable. Keller said there was 
nothing in it, and that the cable had broken. 
You are safe, my boy, and labor will recover all.” 

For the twentieth time I read it. I did not 
heed the rain and roaring wind outside. I was 
alive to nothing but the words of the letter. 
True, I was earning only forty dollars a month, 
and paying nearly all of it for board and clothes, 
but every cent I saved brought me nearer to 
Mabel. I knew Jack Horton was doing what he 
could for me. He wanted me for his partner. 


156 Silenced by Gold. 

L 

The storm swept on, and my dreams were as 
the storm. My boilers hissed and sputtered in 
the intensity of their pent-np strength and my 
heart felt strong for vast labor. Love, like con- 
fined steam, was whirling the machinery of my 
life with resistless force. Love, like my engines, 
was bringing to me, out of the depthts, wealth, a 
wealth of life, and hope, and happiness and peace. 
How different from the feeling with which, only 
a few weeks before I had sat in a boiler-house 
in this same field and dreamed of the joys of a 
contractor’s life. 

Now the vision was of a woman, strong and 
beautiful, of a house lovely and quiet, not of 
fame, not of fortune, not of power, hut of love, — 
love mighty and eternal. 

The wind screamed without, the fire burned in 
the boilers around me, and in my heart love 
kindled a flame of ambition more insatiable than 
a storm or a raging fire. 


A Hurricane of Death. 


157 


CHAPTER XYI. 

A HURRICANE OF DEATH. 

Three years passed by and yet Mabel was not 
my wife. Misfortunes had come upon me thick 
and fast. My mother had died, and I was left 
entirely alone in the world. Then one night 
while I was absent in the field the house where I 
boarded burned to the ground. Try as I would, 
I could make only a living. The second year I 
saved a few dollars, and with a vague longing I 
looked toward Christmas as the happy time which 
should make Mabel my own. But it was the year 
of the panic and in the failure of a bank my 
entire fortune had been lost. 

The long, long nights that I sat in those lonely 
boiler-houses, listening to the monotonous bark 
of the engines and grieving over the cruelty of 
my fate. Once or twice I had heard from Jack. 
He had seen Corning and nothing could be done. 
The oil man was afraid to risk money on an un- 


158 Silenced by Gold. 

certain issue. Nothing had ever been said about 
the cut cable, and we knew that Pankis’ money 
had closed Keller’s mouth. Jack had been more 
successful than I. He had been drilling con- 
stantly and had saved nearly a thousand dollars, 
almost enough to purchase a string of tools. I 
had never heard from Will, and only once of 
John. He had abandoned drilling, and was now 
a rig-builder. He remained in the employ of 
the Pankis Co. They still held the lease on the 
Cobden farm, but had never done anything with 
the territory. 

My only cheer through the long, cold, stormy 
winter nights were the letters that came from 
Mabel. I always told her the truth, and her cheer- 
ful words had kept my heart light through the 
years. She was steadily engaged now, and with 
Miss Estes was owner of a little milliner’s shop 
in one of the busy towns of Indiana. Henry, 
she said, had taught two years in Milton and 
had then accepted a professorship in a small col- 
lege. He was making a good living, and his 
mother, who had recovered health, presided over 
a pretty home. Old Mike had never become him- 
self again. He was childish in the extreme and 
could not be trusted even in the merest of trifles. 
In a little pen by their comfortable home there 
are two small pigs, which he feeds with the great- 


A Hurricane of Death. 


159 


est care. They are his delight and he is as proud 
of them as is a little child over his first hobby- 
horse. 

Dear, sweet Mabel. I have seen her but once 
in these three long years. Then we met for an 
hour or two and separated again. It was at Fort 
Wayne. She was working in a wholesale house 
and her hours of leisure were few. But all the 
old associations were renewed in that one hour, 
and I longed for the day to come when I could 
call her mine. 

Henry came to see her twice a year, and al- 
ways talked of me. He had grown very attentive 
to Miss Estes, and Mabel expected they would 
soon be married. 

So the years passed. All the others seemed 
happy. To me alone the way was still dark. 
Truly I was no nearer the sweet dream than three 
years before. If the better day began to dawn 
when I left Mabel at the farm-house, it had been 
a long, long twilight. The brightness, and hope, 
and happiness had been nearly crushed out of me. 

One day a letter came from Mabel, and even 
she was despondent. I went to my boiler-house; 
the man who worked in the day took his empty 
pail and went home. The summer evening was 
warm, and I had brought my camp-stool and 
was sitting before, the ^oiler-house. The. pumps 


160 


Silenced by Gold. 

were running lazily and had I been a happy man 
I would have dreamed a dream of poetry and life 
in the presence of those slow throbbing engines, 
black tanks, and clicking valves. 

I looked listlessly over into a neighboring field. 
It was close to the edge of a little town. There 
among the houses was a crowd of men and boys 
gathering. I asked a passer-by what was the 
matter. 

“They’ve just drilled in a new well, and are 
going to shoot it,” he answered, as he walked 
toward the crowd. 

I saw that my engines were working quite well 
and I thought I would go over and see the shot. 
Everybody was ready for the explosion when I 
came up. The two hundred and fifty quarts of 
nitro-glycerine were in the well and the crowd 
was already moving away. The derrick stood 
close to some houses, and as the well had flowed 
these were covered with oil. 

I stood at the edge of the crowd. The man 
to whom I had spoken was next me and I asked: 

“Are they most ready?” 

“Nearly, I think. The last can of glycerine’s 
down.” 

The man who handled the deadly explosive 
stood by the well with the iron discharger poised 
in his hand. The men scattered among the houses 


A Hurricane of Death. 


161 


as the word was given. I stood behind a tree. 
There was a sharp ring as the piece of iron 
started, a long steady sonnd as it slid down- 
ward, then all was silent for a moment and I 
raised myself on my tiptoes. The shock came 
sudden and sharp, and just as it did so the red 
sun sank in the west. I thought of the sunset 
gun at evening, heard far away across the 
prairies. 

Then came a sharp crack at the mouth of the 
well. The operator turned at the report and 
walked into the engine-house. For a minute no 
sound was heard and nothing was visible. Then 
a sharp, clear column of water began to rise 
from the well. This was the load that had been 
placed over the explosive to hold it down and 
compel it to shatter the rocks. 

Up, up it went, until it was lost in the gather- 
ing darkness. The vast fountain rose like a living 
thing, as the pressure was relieved. Then came 
the stones torn loose by the mighty shot. They 
struck the sides of the derrick and went singing 
away through the air like rifle balls. The well 
had become a mighty cannon, with barrel quarter 
of a mile long, loaded with six hundred feet of 
water and a ton of rocks and charged with nitro- 
glycerine. It was sublime to sec that mighty 
column and hear the hiss of the escaping gases 


162 Silenced by Gold. 

as they lashed the water into foam and hurled 
the rocks far up into the gathering gloom. 

For nearly a half hour this was continued. Then 
all ceased. A rig-builder was sent aloft to repair 
the crown-block, which had been nearly cut to 
pieces by the rocks, and preparations were being 
made to let down the drill. I lingered near the 
derrick talking to two or three people I knew. 
Lights had been brought in and the drillers were 
busy screwing on a fresh bit. 

Suddenly one of them started. 

“I smell gas,” he exclaimed. 

“Grab the torches,” cried the other, springing 
toward a light. 

But he was too late. In a moment there was 
a burst of flame and a terrible report. I felt 
my feet borne from beneath me. When I came 
to myself I found I had been blown far back 
from the edge of the derrick. A sheet of flame 
full twenty feet in length was rising from the 
well. The great tongues were leaping and writh- 
ing dangerously near the wooden sides of the 
tower. 

I glanced up aloft. The rig-builder sat perched 
upon the crown-pulley, paralyzed with fear. Now 
the wind rose and the flame swept within a foot 
of the boards. The heat was terrific. Every 
moment the pressure of gas was increasing, and 


A Hurricane of Death. 


163 


the man above seemed to be waiting certain death. 
The mangled body of one man, a driller, lay 
roasting upon the derrick floor. I called to the 
man on the tower: 

“Come down at once. Ladder as far as you 
can. When it’s too hot, jump. It’s all you can 
do.” 

He sang out : “I’ll try it,” and I saw him turn. 

The people were gathering from far and near. 
They had heard the report, and now every eye 
was on the man above. The flames had caught 
the derrick roof. They wreathed themselves round 
it. The oil soaked planks sent up a great column 
of black smoke, and for a. mjoment the man 
was lost to our sight. It would be but a few 
minutes till the tower would fall. 

For a moment no one breathed. Then the man 
was seen clinging to a girt and descending on 
the corner toward us, and away from the wind- 
borne flames. On this side the roof of a house 
projected to within ten feet of the derrick. Al- 
ready red brands had fallen on the roof and it 
was smoking. If the man reached it he would 
be safe. We sprang toward it with buckets of 
water. 

Others went to the roofs around to protect them 
when the derrick should fall. Now dark, blood- 
like streams of oil were mingled with the gas, 


164 Silenced by Gold. 

and it came in great jets. Mighty folds of black 
smoke enveloped everything. Fiercer and fiercer 
grew the pressure and the roar of the escaping 
combustibles became deafening. At every spurt 
a spray of the inflammable fluid was thrown to the 
top of the derrick. Could the man live? 

Suddenly the wind veered. A stream of red 
fire shot clear above his head, where he now stood, 
poised for the leap to the roof. I recognized him. 

It was John Pitts. 

With a cry I sprang toward the house. A 
ladder had been thrown against it and in a mo- 
ment I was on the roof. Then I paused. My 
first impulse had been one of exultation, triumph. 
Then my heart sank like lead within me. I saw 
myself in all my baseness, and as I stood there 
in the glare of that dreadful fire I vowed to for- 
give even my enemy if God would spare me from 
viewing his death. The flames shone red about 
me. 

J ohn stood ready to leap, when he saw me below 
him. He was ten feet above me and out on the 
smoking derrick. But he recognized me. He 
stopped and I saw his hand go to his head. 

“Jump, man !” I cried. “Why don’t you jump?” 

All the malice and hatred were gone and I 
felt only care for his safety. 

“Do you know me?” he shouted. 


A Hurricane of Death. 165 

“Yes. Jump, for your life depends on it. I 
will save you.” 

He looked at me a moment, then sprang out. 
He would have fallen short, but I caught him 
and held him up. The man stood looking me 
full in the face. We had met after three years. 
I felt strangely inclined to grasp his hand, for- 
give him all and congratulate him upon his escape. 
But I had no time. 

The great legs of the tower were giving way. 
Now it swa}^ed this way, now that. Through a 
rift in the smoke I saw a sight which made my 
heart stop beating. 

Directly across from us and full in the path 
of the cracking, burning, seething mass of falling 
timbers, stood the wagon which had brought the 
explosives. The empty cans and some filled 
ones were in it. For a moment I held my breath. 

The housetops were full of men trying to save 
the houses from the flames. I saw the tower lean, 
bend, the wind struck it. I threw myself flat 
on the roof with a cry to John Pitts. There was 
a fearful shock, a blinding flash, as of the final 
doom, and I knew no more. 

How long I lay I know not. When conscious- 
ness returned I sprang to my feet and looked 
round. The houses in every direction were on fire. 
The derrick was gone, and from the end of the 


166 Silenced by Gold. 

hot and melting pipe great jets of burning oil 
were springing far into the air, and being borne 
on the wind as a rain of fire on all around. I 
heard shrieks and groans in every direction, and 
could see men crawling like rats from the roof 
of each burning building. I looked for Pitts. 
He lay at my feet. 

I shook him, hut he was unconscious. Then 
I seized him in my arms and dragged him from 
the roof and far out of way of the fire. Shocked, 
dazed and wounded men were running in every 
direction. When I had laid Pitts in a safe place 
and left him in care of a man who was only 
slightly wounded, I returned. 

It was a dreadful holocaust. Human forms 
torn and rent from the force of the explosion lay 
in every direction. Five times I returned to the 
scene, and five forms did I remove from certain 
death. It was no time for thought, but for quick 
decisive action. Houses were leaping into flame 
on every side. The small, fragile frame dwell- 
ings, built by the oil workers, are but a mouthful 
for a fire, and they were being swept away like 
straw stacks. 

People were gathering. I was weak and tired 
and then for the first time became aware that 
I had been wounded. My left arm became weak 
and gradually sank by my side. I tore the sleeve 


A Hurricane of Death. 


167 


from it. A great gash had been cut in the muscle. 
I staggered from the loss, of blood, and would 
have fallen, but some one held me, and supported 
thus, I walked to where I had left my rescued men. 
Six forms stretched out on the grass they lay, 
and I lay down beside them, close beside the one 
who had been my enemy, and lying thus I be- 
came unconscious. 


168 


Silenced by Gold. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

FROM THE LIPS OF THE DEAD. 

It was nearly morning when I awoke. I found 
myself on a stretcher, and being carried along. 
I raised myself slightly and inquired where I was. 

“You are on the way to have your wound 
dressed,” answered some one. 

I sank back, and said no more. When I was 
lifted from the stretcher I tried to stand, but 
found I could not. I lay down upon a cot, which 
had been hastily spread upon the floor of a ware- 
house, and soon the doctor was bending over me. 
He examined my arm carefully. 

“Is my wound serious?” I asked. 

“I do not think so,” he answered, “a piece of 
something must have gone entirely through your 
arm ; there are two cuts made by the same object.” 

Then he turned to the man lying beside me. 
It was Pitts. As he looked him over the doctor 
shook his head. 

“He is still unconscious. It is best for him that 


From the Lips of the Dead. 169 

he die so. He is cut full of holes. Here are 
the places where one object entered the skin almost 
immediately over his heart and was turned aside 
by a rib. That was close. The left side of his 
body is literally cut to pieces. He cannot recover.” 

I thought of him dying thus, without even hav- 
ing spoken to me by way of forgiveness, and I 
said: 

“Surely the man will become conscious again.” 

“He may, but it will be but shortly before he 
dies,” replied the doctor, and passed on. 

The gray dawn was looking in on us, and I lay 
and silently thought. I would watch for the first 
glimmer of returning life in John, and would 
speak to him. I did not hate him now, but I 
wanted to hear from his own lips that he bore 
no more malice to me. 

Some one brought us food and I ate heartily. 
Then I sat up. I felt strong again. By the 
afternoon I was able to walk about, with my 
arm in a sling. Then I heard the result of the 
accident. Seven had been instantly killed and 
four fatally injured, John among the four. Twelve 
had sustained serious but not dangerous injuries 
from the flying missiles. Many had been burned 
or slightly injured in the fire which raged all 
night. 

People came to me and spoke of my bravery 


170 


Silenced by Gold. 

in rescuing six lives from the burning house- 
tops. But I felt I had only done my duty, and 
a moment’s conversation with this one man whom 
all had seen in the burning rig, and who had 
been helped to the housetops by me, was worth 
all the rest. 

All that day I watched for signs of conscious- 
ness, but still he lay, his breath short and labored. 
The doctor came to see him twice, but turned away 
each time with a hopeless look. 

At last, just as the sun went down and lamps 
were lighted in the improvised hospital, a shudder 
passed over the frame before me. I stooped and 
examined him. The breathing was more regular. 
I spoke his name. The eyes opened. He re- 
garded me for a moment, then closed them once 
more. I again spoke: 

“Do you not know me, John?” 

The eyes reopened and he said, with a thin, 
weak, dying voice: 

“Yes, but I am dying. You saved me from 
burning to death on the derrick. But something 
else must have happened. Why did you save me?” 

“Because,” and I spoke firmly, “your life was 
in danger and it was my duty.” 

“Charley,” he gasped, “forgive me. I wronged 
you.- Only forgive me.” 

I took his free right hand in mine. 


From the Lips of the Dead. 171 

“You were unjust to me then, but it is past now 
and I forgive you.” 

“Listen, Charley,” he said, “I want to tell you 
something. I cut that rope. Pankis paid me to 
do it, so Corning wouldn’t know we had struck 
oil. We had some oil in the hole when we bailed 
out, and Pankis told me to cut the rope. I 
crawled under the reel-house and cut it. No one 
saw me, but I think Will suspicioned afterwards. 
I did it all the easier because we could put the 
blame on you.” 

I had at last heard John’s confession. All was 
as I had suspected. The dying man went on : 

“Something else, Charley. That night we all 
left I went out, expecting to shoot you. Pankis 
promised to take me to town at half past eleven. 
I had been drinking. I waited for you in the 
road. When you didn’t come I went after you. 
I had a pistol in my hand. She saw it and saved 
your life. Next day I told Pankis he must buy olf 
Keller and keep the thing out of court or I’d tell 
the whole story. Charley,” and his voice became 
husky and low, “I loved that girl, and I haven’t 
drunk a drop since that night. I have worked 
hard and saved my money well enough. Yes, I 
loved her, and she saved me. Is she your wife 
yet?” 


172 


Silenced by Gold. 

“No,” I answered, my own voice full of emotion, 
“but some day she will be.” 

“Forgive me again, Charley, and be happy with 
her. Tell her I loved her though I was a criminal.” 

His eyes closed. He sank back, and I knew that 
death had come. In that one presence we all stand 
awed, and how much more when the dead has 
played such a part in our lives as this man had 
in mine. The tears came to my eyes and I turned 
away. 

Mabel read the story in the papers; how I had 
rescued the man from the housetops, and his name. 
She wrote to me. At the end of her letter she 
said: 

“ Tor a friend some would even dare to die,’ 
but you risked your life for your worst enemy.” 

I could not tell her the fierce hatred that burned 
in my heart when I first ran toward the fatal 
roof. It was all gone now, and I buried it forever 
away from my sight. 

Two days after the accident I went back to 
my pumping. For several weeks I carried my arm 
in a sling, but finally it was healed. I pumped 
the wells for six months, and the snows of winter 
lay white above the grave of my enemy. 

The coming of the new year brought joyful 
news to me. Jack had bought a string of tools 
and wanted me to work for him. He would, for 


From the Lips of the Dead. 173 

a time, do his own drilling, and I might again 
be his tool-dresser. Corning had given him a 
contract and we would begin in two weeks. 

My last night in the boiler-house I will never 
forget. I saw the snow drifting over the fields, 
and the engines could hardly work the wooden 
dummies at the wells, so thick were they laden with 
snow and ice. I sat thinking, thinking. How 
many, many things had occurred since first I 
learned to run an engine and clean from the 
pump-rods their load of paraffine. How had 
I been changed from a careless, reckless boy to 
a man, calculating and careful. My long nights 
had been employed in a faithful struggle for cul- 
ture. It was like three years of hard schooling. In 
the intervals of my work I had studied and applied 
myself so that now I would be able to make the 
best of the opportunities that I knew were coming. 

As on the morning of New Year’s Day I took 
my empty pail and walked for the last time out 
at the door of the boiler-house and struck across 
the fields, 1 seemed to be leaving behind me my 
youth, and launching on an untravelled sea. But 
across from me, beyond the dark abyss, what a 
beautiful haven. I seemed to feel Mabel’s hand 
reached out to me, and hear her voice calling me 
toward happiness everlasting. 

That midnight found me leaving the car at 


174 Silenced by Gold. 

a little station far out in the great oil field, and 
my hand was clasped by Jack, who was waiting 
for me. His wife stood beside him. It was near 
here we were to drill and I was to hoard at their 
house. The other men were to board there, too. 
The sweet little woman smiled as she took my 
big hand and said: 

“I know your story, Charley, and I think you 
a hero.” 

I felt myself blush as she spoke, and I wondered 
whether some one else would not soon be by my 
side, the inspiration of every good deed I had ever 
done. 

Jack began speaking at once of the death of 
John. I told him of the confession the man had 
made and he smiled. 

“Why, Charley, Will and I knew it all the 
time. Will overheard a conversation between 
Pankis and John and we would have told our 
story, had it gone to court. By the way, do 
you know what has happened to Pankis and Son?” 
* “No,” I said. “What is it?” 

“They have failed. In the fall of prices in oil 
old Pankis lost more than a hundred thousand 
dollars, and is now as poor as he was the day 
I first knew him. The little dude who caused 
us so much trouble is now pumping a well to make 
a living. Quite a drop for him. He has been 


From the Lips of the Dead. 175 

forced to sell the Cobden lease and Corning has 
bought it. We may get to drill over in that coun- 
try yet. You see, our fine birds have been plucked 
of their feathers. These bubble fortunes of this 
country don’t last long. Had old Pank 3 known 
half as much about the oil business as he thought 
he did he’d have known that the rise of oil was 
only a blind, and wouldn’t have bitten so hard. 
But come in now, and see your partners.” 

I entered the little cottage, and what was my 
surprise to see, seated in an old armchair and 
toasting his toes, my old friend Will Hoyt. The 
other man was a stranger, but he seemed gentle- 
manly, and we were soon well acquainted. 

How we did talk that night. Each one must 
tell all that had happened in the years since we 
were together. The one element of evil was gone 
and we all felt his absence. 

“Yes,” Will said, “I have seen worse men in 
my time than John Pitts. True, he was wicked, 
would sell himself, and would be revenged on 
an enemy, but from the time he met Mabel Gray 
he was different. I worked once in the country 
where he was building rigs. I met him often. 
He never spoke of what had happened at the 
Pankis well. One day I told him my suspicions 
and he grew angry. He said I was trying to pump 
him for you. You had robbed him o| the only 


176 


Silenced by Gold. 

woman he could love, he said, and he could never 
forgive you. He worked hard and saved his money 
well, letting whiskey alone when I knew him.” 

“He did forgive me, Will,” I said, “and he 
told me of his evil purposes against me. And 
I forgave him, too. Poor fellow, to see him so 
cut to pieces was dreadful.” 

“Now, boys,” said Jack, “you are too mournful 
in your reminiscences entirely. Here’s the old 
lady and me; we’ve quarreled, fought, scrabbled, 
and everything you ever heard of, and at last we 
have supper ready. So let that dead man rest 
and come and eat it.” 

We did let him rest, for never afterwards was he 
spoken of among us. But Will looked more con- 
tent, now that Pitts was gone. 

The next day found us stringing the tools for 
the well. It seemed strange to us to work where 
Jack had no master but himself, and we had one 
who was kinder than we to ourselves. Cold and 
stormy as it was, we had the tools strung by night, 
and at six Jack and I lay down to rest, while the 
drill was churning its way downward. How un- 
like that midnight long ago, was this one, when 
I was to re-begin my work as a tool-dresser. 

Midnight found me still awake. My mind 
was too full of visions, of dreams, of bright plans 
for the future which was dawning for me. With 


From the Lips of the Dead. 177 

these friends about me, with Jack and Will and 
Corning to help me, what could I not succeed in 
doing ? Ah, Mabel, Mabel, when I meet you again 
all will be bright. The dawn indeed came that 
night, when all seemed darkest. Now I could see 
the red light of the sun beaming up from below 
the horizon and I knew the day was at hand. 

How my heart beat with joy when at last Jack 
called me and seized the pail, well tilled by his 
careful wife, and together we sallied out into the 
cold, crisp night. The sky was clear, and the 
January moon, high overhead, looked down on 
fields whose white magnificence was unrivalled in 
the world. Clear and sharp through the still 
night came the fall of the drill, and I thought 
how often men’s lives, since first the dark liquid 
had ruined the waters of that clear Pennsylvania 
stream, had hung by that cable, and been saved or 
lost with that clanging steel. 

Bright and clear, clear as the pure, cold sky, 
seemed the future of my hopes. The wonderful 
wheel had swung round again for me, even as the 
great arm on the crank shaft swung the heavy 
drill. 

Thus again did I enter the driller’s world, and 
I had kept Mabel’s behest. I had not again become 
a driller till I knew the destiny of him who would 
have been my murderer. 


178 


Silenced by Gold. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

THE PHANTOM OF SUCCESS. 

It was a fine April morning. We had finished 
our third well, and had been running the drill 
a week on this lease. As I came to Jack and stood 
beside him, where he was working, I realized more 
than ever what a friend he had been to me. I 
had saved as much in these three runs as I had 
in the three years preceding, and the next well 
I would be a driller, for Will had purchased a 
supply store and would leave the field. The smile 
on his wife’s face as she spoke of it, when she 
visited us, was beautiful and happy. Hereafter 
he could be at home with her and his hoys. 

Jack’s little son was just coming across the 
field, which separated us from the town, carry- 
ing an excellent warm breakfast for each of us. 
I noted the proud look on the father’s face and ‘I 
felt my love and respect for him deepen as I 


The Phantom of Success. 179 


looked. The father greeted him cheerily, as he 
came to ns, and after bailing out we let the drill 
hang up and sat down to a comfortable meal. 

“Charley,.” said Jack, “what do you say to you 
and me separating?” 

I looked up quickly. “What do you mean?” I 
asked. 

“I mean this,” said he. “I have enough laid 
by to pay half on another string of tools. You 
can stand the other half. Let’s buy another and 
you run them.” 

I could do no other than accept his offer. My 
vision of a contractor’s life was blossoming into 
reality. As the bright sun rose that morning over 
the green fields, I felt that the long night was 
ended and the daylight come at last. 

Corning was seen and he told us he would give 
us another job immediately. So when the well 
was finished, where we were, Jack and I went to- 
gether to the city and made a purchase. I was 
a contractor at last. In a small way, to be sure, 
only a half interest in one string, but it was my 
dream come true. 

For three weeks, Jack, Will and I parted com- 
pany. I went with my tools, driller, while Jack 
stayed with his own, and Will was in his little 
store at home, the happiest man in the world. 
He had told me his story long before. 


180 Silenced by Gold. 

When a boy he had been thrown on his own 
resources. He had studied hard and determined 
to be a lawyer. But opportunity had not come, 
and consequently money was absent. The finding 
of oil had brought opportunity, but it was of 
another kind than he had desired. But strong 
to do the thing nearest him, he had become a 
driller. Amassing a little money he had married, 
and since had followed the greasy trade from ne- 
cessity. Now, at last, he saw his way clear to 
competence, and that peaceful enjoyment of the 
home life so congenial to his gentle, kindly nature. 

How proudly I watched the new tools being 
strung to their places, and with what an earnest 
heart I heard the first thud of the great rod, 
which was now my fortune. With a will I worked 
away. My men were trusty fellows, and they did 
their work finely. I had little to fear and I only 
dreamed of the future. How full of confidence 
were my letters to Mabel. Soon, soon I could 
call her mine. 

One afternoon I was working in the derrick. 
It was in J une. I had evening tour and the drill 
was going merrily downward. Only two days be- 
fore we had flung off the spud-line and the walk- 
ing-beam was yet unsoiled and in its glory, like a 
young man in his first battle with the world. How 
different it would look when blackened and greasy 


The Phantom of Success. 181 


the weight of a thousand feet of rope was sus- 
pended from its huge arm. 

A dark cloud hung low in the west. It had 
swung round to the northward and appeared to be 
passing beyond us. Heavy peals of thunder now 
and again came from it. My tool-dresser was 
watching it with the interest common to the men. 
I had ceased to pay much attention to it now. 
Suddenly my comrade came running toward me. 

“Look ! Look !” he exclaimed. “The wind’s 
veered and it’s coming over.” 

The derrick stood north and south with the 
boiler south of the tower. I looked out and saw 
he was right. All along the under edge of the 
frayed and ragged cloud the breakers boiled and 
seethed. There was wind in it, and lightning, 
too. Swiftly, unaccountably it had changed its 
course, and now rose like a great army striking 
its tents. It seemed coming straight toward us. 
There was no time for wonder or admiration, 
though both filled my soul as I looked at the bil- 
lowy clouds. It was a sublime moment. The 
air around had become still as death. Across the 
little swamp, two miles to the northward, now as 
I looked I saw the trees which fringed the border, 
bending and swaying. Now there came to my ears 
a sound of heavy thunder. I sprang to the engine 
and stopped the great beam upon the upward 


182 Silenced by Gold. 

stretch, leaving the drill suspended in the well. 
Then I ran toward the boiler, the driller’s refuge 
in a time of storm. My tool-dresser was before 
me and was first to crawl beneath the high-raised 
end of the great steel kettle. 

In a moment the storm was upon us. I could 
hear the whistle of the guy-wires as the smoke- 
stack strained its moorings. The great cloud 
made it dark and terrible as night. A moment 
more and the guy gave way. The long smoke- 
stack fell with a crash. A roar of thunder burst 
out. Then came to my ears another sound. It 
was the creaking of the derrick itself. It seemed 
to be having a battle with the wind. More and 
more frequent came the sounds — then one louder 
than the rest. From my position I could not see 
the tower. But I crawled to the side and looked 
up. A furious blast had struck the rig, and even 
as I looked I saw it tremble, start and seem to 
bend. Then I knew what was the matter. The 
leg opposite had given way and the tower was fall- 
ing. I pulled my tool-dresser by the arm and 
cried : 

“Out and run ! The derrick’s given way and 
is falling toward us !” 

The furious storm drowned my voice, but he 
felt my grip, and began struggling to get out. 
I pulled myself to my feet, and ran for dear life. 


The Phantom of Success. 183 

I went at right angles to the falling rig. At a 
distance I turned. My comrade was out by this 
time, and was coming toward me. In spite of my 
fears for his safety, and I saw his horrible danger, 
I felt awe-inspired by the sublime spectacle. Far 
out above me trembled the crown. The derrick 
was falling directly over the engine-house. It 
seemed to pause in the air as if gathering strength 
for the terrible blow. The man stumbled and fell, 
then regained his feet. 

At the same moment I saw the crown-pulley 
leave the top of the derrick. The wind, the fall- 
ing timbers hurled it forth, and even as I gazed, 
speechless and horrified, the huge block struck the 
man. He fell, and the great timbers folding to- 
gether like a sheet of paper, with a crash buried 
him beneath their ruin. So close was I that I 
could feel their rush through the air as with a 
wild scream, wilder than the howl of the storm, 
they hurled themselves madly to the earth. The 
belt-house and engine-house yielded to the end-on 
stroke of the heavy planks, and all was for a mo- 
ment a scene of confusion. Out of it all, like a 
huge arm uplifted to strike a blow, rose the great 
walking-beam, calm and mighty, hurling defiance 
in the face of the wind. 

I rushed toward the fallen man. He was 
buried beneath the timbers, and I could move 


184 Silenced by Gold. 

nothing. Even already there was a lull in the 
storm, and before I had beaten the planks from 
his body the June sun looked placidly out of the 
west, and smiled on the scene of desolation and 
death. 

The wreck had been seen from a house near by, 
and in a few minutes the farmer and his two 
strong sons were on the spot. Together we lifted 
the form of the man, all broken and mangled as 
it was, and carried it to the farm-house. There 
was no breathing, and we knew that he was dead. 

Ah, Mabel, Mabel, had he not beaten me in the 
race to the boiler, that bright setting sun would 
have looked upon my body dead, and would have 
smiled just as calmly on your broken heart. He 
had a sweetheart, of whom he had told me, and 
his mother depended on him for sustenance. We 
placed his body in a coffin, and sent it to his 
mother, for she w T as too poor to come after it. 

My contractor’s life had suddenly ended. An 
engine, a boiler, the cables, and almost everything 
were a hopeless wreck. The drill was in the well, 
four hundred feet, hut the walking-beam still 
held. My presence of mind in stopping the en- 
gine on the upward swing had saved the drill. 
But a long time must pass before a new rig could 
be erected. 

I held a consultation with Jack. My heart was 


The Phantom of Success. 185 


well-nigh broken. My work of the years was lost 
now, for what with our labor on the well, and the 
loss of the string, my every cent must go to pay 
the debts. I was once more penniless. Jack had 
nothing he could spare now. We were in a pre- 
dicament. I meditated long. It seemed useless 
to think of winning Mabel. I wrote to her and 
told her all, and that I no longer hoped. Her an- 
swer came. She too was despondent. 

“Work no longer for me, Charley,” she said, 
“you have toiled long enough fruitlessly. It is 
a vain hope we have cherished. I too have been 
unfortunate. Not a cent have I made. Our 
vision has ended. Let us be to each other as 
strangers, and give up the golden dream. I am 
going back to Milton, and take charge of uncle 
and aunt. Henry wishes me to return, as he too 
has had misfortunes and wants me to help make a 
living for his parents. We are going West. I can 
live with them and be a comfort to them, while 
you will forget me.” 

It was the hardest blow of all. I had courted 
it, and now it had come. Abandoned, shattered, 
and forever unrealized, my hopes gave place to 
sorrow and gloom. A very dark cloud had come 
over the sky and destruction seemed near. How 
could I work any more? What cared I to work 
any more? 


186 Silenced by Gold. 

For a long time, for weeks, I think, I bore it in 
silence. It was for the best. Mabel had been a 
dream, and now I was awake. But, as after 
dreaming, when the vision is delectable, one dreads 
the waking moments and sense of reality, so now 
I gazed upon my fate in stupor and stolid com- 
posure. But one day J ack said : 

“Charley, why are you so silent? Do not let 
this grieve you. The derrick will be up in a few 
days. The engine can be repaired, and perhaps 
we can yet succeed.” 

“It is not that,” I answered, and then I showed 
him MabeFs letter. He read it carefully, then 
stood silent for a moment, thinking. 

“Why, my boy, this is only foolishness. She 
doesn’t mean to marry, and while she’s not mar- 
ried she’s yours. Make a mark in your daybook, 
lad, she loves you and will always do so, or I miss 
my guess.” 

“You do not understand her,” I said, sadly, 
“she means what she says and it is all over.” 

“Well, then, my friend, let me tell you this. If 
she does not care enough for you to marry you 
and share your poverty, she does not care enough 
to be worthy to share your riches.” 

He turned away. The words cut me cruelly. 
I had never thought of asking Mabel to share my 
poverty, for I had always proudly pictured her a 


The Phantom of Success. 187 


rich man’s wife, and myself the rich man. My 
soul had always revolted against the idea of bring- 
ing her to any other place than a home of luxury, 
and I had toiled to that end. Now it seemed I 
was never to be rich, and I gave her up entirely. 
I would not believe that she did not love me, no, 
not even from Jack. She did, but how could we 
be happy without riches. Then I thought of old 
Mike and his life-long struggle for wealth, and 
how he had failed on every hand, as the world 
would say. Yet I had seen his wife bend over him 
and kiss his furrowed cheek. Was he altogether 
unhappy? Was she not happy? Happy even to 
be poor? After all, was love not enough, even 
without wealth, to make life worth living? 

But Mabel had told me I need not write again. 
There was nothing now but gloom. I could be- 
come a driller, and as Will and Jack had so long 
done, earn my wife a living. But she had refused 
me further correspondence, and all I could do was 
wait. 

The derrick, after almost endless delays, was 
completed, and Corning came to Jack. The other 
string of tools had just completed a well, and Jack 
was ordered to move to the unfinished one. It 
was agreed I should go on drilling, but paid by 
Jack as a regular hand. 

The broken engine was set aside. The boiler 


188 Silenced by Gold, 

had not been injured much, and was repaired. 
The wheels revolved, and the drill-rod, rusted and 
almost ruined by disuse, arose at last from the well. 
As I looked at it, it seemed like my own life, once 
so beautiful and bright, now so rough and dingy. 

I worked faithfully until the well was drilled 
in, and then came a surprise. Corning was talk- 
ing with me one day. 

“You have done well,” said he, “you have borne 
up bravely under your misfortune at this location, 
and now I am going to help you. You go to Will 
Hoyt, order what repairs you need to fill out your 
string, and go to work again. I will pay for it.” 

And so it came about that I was again a con- 
tractor. But how different from the one I had been 
a few months before. I had not a cent to call 
my own. Everything belonged to Corning. I 
was only master of it. 

Two wells, successfully drilled, paid our every 
debt. On the third we cleared two hundred dol- 
lars. On the fourth, my share, augmented by 
my wages as driller, was sufficient, and I bought 
out Jack’s interest in these tools and was his full 
partner, each owning a string. 

Not a misfortune came that summer. Every- 
thing went well. Six wells in and as many more 
in contract. At the beginning of the next year 
we bought a third string of tools, and I gave up 


The Phantom of Success. 189 


drilling in the winter. It was cold and stormy, 
and it was all Mr. Norton, as Jack was now known, 
and myself could do to superintend our three sets 
of men. 

But I was unhappy. Gradually I had schooled 
myself to Jack’s way of thinking. That Mabel 
Gray had loved me, expecting me to become 
wealthy, and would not marry me when she knew 
I was to be poor. I passed through Milton one 
day, and I inquired concerning her. Neither she 
nor old Mike lived there. What had become of 
them no one knew. Then I knew how I loved 
her. What if she were dead ! I leaned back in 
the car seat and thought. All my fancied control 
left me and I loved her wildly, madly. I knew 
that I had misjudged her, and that something 
must have occurred. I pressed my hand to my 
head and lay back on the seat. Why had I never 
written to her ! Six months were now past. But 
for the first time I felt my loss keenly. It was as 
if some one had thrust my heart through and 
through. For weeks I could neither work nor rest. 
I wrote to her again and again, but received no 
reply. I was a well-to-do contractor now, and was 
more miserable than when I had been poor. 


190 


Silenced by Gold. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

THROUGH THE SHADOW, INTO THE DAT. 

One day we, Norton and Ford, received a busi- 
ness call from Joe Corning. The business was 
this. Corning, as I have said, now owned the old 
Pankis lease. He had tried to lease the farm 
which had been old Mike’s. The owner refused to 
lease but intimated his willingness to sell. Corn- 
ing had come to us thinking one or other of us 
might have the ready money to invest. His offer 
was this : He wanted to drill again on the Cobden 
lease, but did not wish to do so until he could get 
possession of the Ford farm. If we would buy it 
he would then take our lease, and the drilling 
might proceed. 

I began to count my store. There were only 
eighty acres, and I had saved nearly three thousand 
dollars. I did not doubt but that the land itself 
was a safe investment at fifty dollars an acre, and 


Through the Shadow, into the Day. 191 

knowing what I knew it would have been cheap at 
a hundred. 

Two days later I walked up to the door that I 
remembered so well. Not many changes had taken 
place in four years. Things were not kept quite so 
nicely, for the land had not passed into the best 
of hands, and now was owned by a man who be- 
lieved in making a farm bring in the largest 
amount for a few years, then selling it. 

I knocked and was admitted to the self-same 
little sitting-room, where memory clung so fondly. 
But it was not the same. It was better furnished, 
but the neatness I had admired was gone. Here 
and there were cracks in the plaster, and I saw a 
cobweb hanging to the wall. The owner entered 
and spoke to me. I gave him my name. 

“Ford, oh, yes,” he said. “Any relation to the 
Ford who used ter own this place ?” 

“A cousin,” I answered. 

I could see he was anticipating some request 
from me in behalf of old Mike. I quickly dis- 
abused him by saying : 

“I knew him but slightly, and have not seen 
him since he left this farm.” 

“He were a poor hand at managin’, he were,” 
said the farmer. “He couldn’t make nothin’ 
nohow. He just prodded around and didn’t do 
nothin’ to get the best out of this here soil. But 


192 Silenced by Gold. 

he left the old place in good condition, he did. T 
bought it cheap, way down, and have made it 
bring its cost in these four years. And now Fm 
’lowin’ on sellin’ it and movin’ ter town.” 

This was my opportunity. But I did not want 
to appear too anxious. He might ask my busi- 
ness, and if I told him I was an oil man the farm 
would instantly appreciate considerably in nomi- 
nal value. 

“How much do you value it at, now?” I asked. 
“I know a man who would like to buy a farm, 
and maybe I can procure you a purchaser.” 

“Well, I ’low it ain’t worth less than sixty dol- 
lar an acre, nohow. It’s purty good soil, and is 
only just about four miles from town. I guess 
I might say I set it at sixty dollar,” he answered. 

“I think you are rather high,” I replied, “My 
friend wants to pay cash, and of course you 
wouldn’t expect so much, cash down.” 

“Well, that there might make some difference. 
I might shade a leetle fer cash.” 

“How much, now, would you ask cash down 
for the farm?” I asked, rather impatiently. 

“Well, I’ll tell you what I’ll do. If ver can 
sell this here farm fer me, I’ll take fifty-five fer 
it and be done.” 

“I’ll give you fifty, spot cash,” I said. 

“I can’t do it,” said the farmer. 


Through the Shadow, into the Day. 193 

“Well, I can do no better. If I could offer you 
more I would willingly do so. You see I know 
something about this farm. I was over it when 
old Mike lived here, and I know you got it for 
forty dollars an acre. It’s not in as good condi- 
tion as it was then. But I rather like the place 
and will offer you fifty. I won’t come a cent high- 
er. If you will take it, we will go to a justice’s 
to-day, and make the deed. If not, well and 
good.” 

The man went to talk with his wife about the 
offer. I was left alone in the room. Oh, how 
my heart yearned to go back again to the days 
when she and I were together here. There in that 
corner had old Mike been sitting when I bid him 
good-bye. There close to the window, Mabel had 
stood beside me and told me that she loved me. 
The door was open, and I looked out at the little 
step where we sat together that well-remembered 
night. I closed my eyes, for the sight of all these 
things had filled them with tears. Then I mused. 
Would it not have been better to have married her 
then when she would willingly have shared my 
poverty? Would it not have been a happier life 
to struggle at her side for a liying, than to be as 1 
was? Where was she. to-day as I sat here think- 
ing other? Would I ever see her again? Where 
was old Mike? If I ever found him he should 


194 


Silenced by Gold. 

come back to the old farm and feed his pigs for 
the remainder of his days. 

My reverie was suddenly broken. The farmer 
had returned. 

“Me and the old woman have talked it over, 
and Fm thinkin’ we’ll sell/’ were his words. “I 
’spect we better just go right over to the ’Squire’s 
and hev it all done up to-day.” 

So the farmer, his wife, and myself, seated in 
my road wagon, drove up to the door of ’Squire 
Cobden’s a few minutes later. The ’Squire rec- 
ognized me immediately and shook hands warmly. 
I told him my business. The deed was drawn, the 
check written, and the farm was mine. As we 
turned to go the ’Squire drew me aside. 

“Mr. Ford,” he said, “what’s going to be done ?” 

“Oh, nothing in particular,” I answered, eva- 
sively. 

“Yes, but there is, though. Maybe you and 
Mabel Gray is going to be married ?” 

“I don't even know where she is,” I answered. 

“Don’t you? Why, didn’t you hear nothin’ 
about all that?” 

“About what?” I said eagerly. 

“Why, Henry’s made a big success out West, 
and has his father and mother out there. And 
I heard Mabel was dost there, too, doin’ something 
or ’nuther.” 


Through the Shadow, into the Day. 195 

"Well, I am glad to hear of it," I said, trying 
to appear unconcerned. “Pray, do you know what 
place it is at which Henry’s located?” 

He gave me the address and I copied it lest I 
should forget it. 

“You seem to be awful anxious about it,” and 
he winked at me. 

“Yes, I want to let old Mike know I have bought 
the farm.” 

He winked again, but said nothing. 

I stayed for supper at the house which was 
soon to be my own, and then went back to the hotel 
in Milton. When I got to my room I sat down at 
my table and wrote — not to Mabel, for it was un- 
certain if she were with the rest, but to Henry. 
I said not a word of my success in business, but 
asked after them all, and told him that Mabel and 
I were estranged. When the letter was posted I 
sat down to think. 

What a wild feeling it was after all. Only an 
address, a word casually dropped by ’Squire 
Cobden, and my heart was again beating high with 
hope. I walked to the window and looked forth. 
On the other side of the street was the little shop 
where once she had worked. The moon had risen 
and it was gilding the shop with a mellow radiance. 
Every spot her feet had touched was brighter, more 
beautiful than the rest of the world. That after- 


196 


Silenced by Gold. 

noon, coming along the road, I had passed the well 
which had meant everything for me. Four years 1 
Now I was owner of the farm whose lease had cost 
the happiness of three people, and the fortune of 
Pankis. I owned the place, and old Mike’s anx- 
iety was now my own. 

In the morning Corning and Jack came down, 
and together we drove to my farm. As we passed 
the site of our former labor we stopped and went 
over to the well. 

“You say, Ford, you are sure there was oil 
here?” said Corning. 

“It was the last word the tool-dresser ever said. 
He told me oil had been found and Pankis had 
ordered him to cut the rope so you would never 
know.” 

“And does Will Hoyt say the same?” asked the 
leaser. 

“He does,” I answered, “only he knew nothing 
of John’s crime, but suspected it. Pankis paid 
then both, Will for keeping quiet and Pitts for do- 
ing the work.” 

Jack came beside me as I stood on the site of 
the old boiler. Only a few ashes marked the spot, 
even as ashes had covered my life’s hopes. 

“Charley, that boiler explosion was a close call. 
If that well had gone right I’m thinking you 
wouldn’t be owning the Ford farm to-day. Yet, 


Through the Shadow, into the Day. 197 

you might have inherited it by this time,” and he 
smiled. 

“Don’t speak of that, J ack, please. I am think- 
ing too much of that, anyway,” I said. 

“That’s what I spoke of it for. You are think- 
ing too much of it. But do you know what I 
believe? You will marry her yet. She will be 
heard from.” 

I grasped his hand. “She has been heard from, 
or rather the rest have, and I have a letter on the 
way to them now.” 

He looked at me in silence for a moment. 

“Hope on, then, Charley, for the end will be all 
right.” 

It had been arranged that in consideration of 
the lease on the farm Coming should give me the 
thousand dollars I lacked in payment of it, so that 
afternoon found us again at ’Squire Cobden’s. 

The worthy man opened his eyes when the lease 
with the consideration was read, and exclaimed 
to me: 

“How I see what you’re up to. I might have 
known some oil business was on hand.” 

“Yes, there is, Mr. Cobden,” said Corning. “I 
am going to put down a well on your land, also 
one on Mr. Ford’s here, as soon as I can get these 
gentlemen to move in the tools. I couldn’t get 
the old fellow over there to lease, so I got Mr. 


198 


Silenced by Gold. 

Ford to buy the land and lease it to me. Oh, 
we have a sure thing here. Don’t you say any- 
thing about it, though, for I want to lease some 
more land hereabouts.” 

The ’Squire invited us to take dinner with him, 
before we located the wells. We did so, and after 
dinner selected two points, one on each farm, 
whence we were to sink the tell-tale shafts. All 
was bustle and work for a week now, yet how anx- 
iously I watched for the answer to my letter. 

In one week the timber for the derricks was on 
the ground. Another week and the great towers, 
bright and new, uncolored by mud or grease, rose 
majestically over the green fields. The farmer, 
who still lived in my house, having a month in 
which to vacate, could hardly understand it all. 
He came to where I was busy directing the un- 
loading of the tools, which were now arriving on 
the ground, and watched the work in silence for a 
while. 

“You’re a slick ’un,” he said at last. “Ef I’d 
a knowed this, I’d a asked you a hundred dollar an 
acre fer this farm.” 

“You would not have got it,” I answered, “we 
want to test it, that’s all. This hole may be as 
dry as the wind, for all I know, but we’re going 
to find out. I paid you what the land was worth 
and you ought to be satisfied,” 


Through the Shadow, .into the Day. 199 

“Durned if I am, though/’ he said. “Seems 
like the more a man gets the more he wants. I’m 
goin’ to town to live, and give up this yer gettin’ 
rich anyhow,” and he turned away. 

In a few days the tools were strung, and our 
tried men, who had been with us ever since we had 
been contractors, were handling the work with per- 
fect skill. Jack stayed at home and operated our 
third string while I superintended the work here. 
How often in those long days did I wander over 
the paths her feet had trod, and my love for her 
grew stronger every hour. 

The country people flocked to the derrick in the 
evenings. Many of them knew me, and long were 
our talks about the wild-cat I had helped to drill. 
The boys on the two wells would put on barkers 
of an evening and their answering screams took me 
back to pumping days. 

One night we had an extra amount of company. 
I lounged in the corner, talking and telling stories. 
Our drillers, jolly fellows, were having a fine time 
playing tricks. The drill was down nearly six 
hundred feet, and they would let the drill slide 
for a scare. Every now and then a hot water hose 
would slip from a driller’s hand. The ’Squire had 
come out. We sat talking. I was leaning against 
one of the braces. The visitors were having a 


200 Silenced by Gold. 

hilarious time over on the other, the forge side of 
the derrick. 

One of them came and leaned against our brace. 
It gave and in a moment I found myself flat on 
my back in the soft slush. The fat ’Squire was 
sprawling on his face beside me, and the country- 
man lay a few feet beyond. There was a roar of 
laughter as we extricated ourselves. There were 
some three or four different colored rocks repre- 
sented on the ’Squire’s clothing, and they gave him 
exactly the appearance of a marbled book cover. 
I could not see myself. 

I had no change of clothes out in the country. 
Neither of the drillers had a suit large enough for 
me, so I was compelled to return to Milton. The 
accident had put me in the best of humors. The 
’Squire rode with me to his house and said as he 
left: 

“Be sure and wash your buggy-cushion before 
daylight to-morrow, or you’ll be taken for a 
ditcher.” 

I entered my room and struck a light. Then 
I busied myself to change my clothes. Looking 
round the room I noticed a letter lying where the 
postman had thrown it. I took it up. My heart 
gave a sudden leap. I recognized Mabel’s hand- 
writing. 

Tremblingly I opened it. I glanced at the ad- 


Through the Shadow, into the Day. 201 

dress. It was written from a town in Illinois. 
Then I looked along the lines. Henry had re- 
ceived my letter. He had moved, and that ac- 
counted for its being so long in reaching him. 
He read it to them all. She hastened to reply. 
She had heard nothing from me for nearly a year. 
Soon after writing last she had gone West and for- 
gotten to leave her address. Then she had not 
expected to hear from me again. But time had 
not effected the expected change in her, and she 
had written. Her letters did not reach me, but 
came back unopened. She had given up ever hear- 
ing from me. 

“Charley, have you forgotten me?” she closed. 
“We are poor yet, and never shall be richer. Shall 
we both be unhappy through life for the sake of 
riches? Would it not have been better had we 
married, even though we were poor? Your letter 
showed you were unhappy. Could I but see you 
I would give half my life.” 

I did not hesitate a moment. Hastily throw- 
ing on my clothes I ran to the telegraph office. I 
sent two messages. One to Jack saying: 

“Called away few days. Take charge of work.” 

One to Mabel: 

“Letter received. Will come at once.” 


202 Silenced by Gold. 

I waited for an answer from Jack. It came. 
He would be over in the morning. I went to my 
room, hastily prepared for the journey, and in two 
hours was plunging through the night on my way 
to her I loved. 


Preparatory. 


203 


CHAPTER XX. 

PREPARATORY. 

Out over the great stretches of level meadows 
and green cornfields ; out past the great, grinding, 
hurrying city of the lakes, and on into the prairie 
State. The train flew on, but my thoughts pre- 
ceded it. Night grew gray and faded, and the 
young moon smiled in the first freshness of its 
youth as I stood waiting for a train in the great 
metropolis. Again the whistle blew. I sat upon 
the south side of the car. At first the shadows 
were long, and they fell aslant, but they shortened, 
shortened, and the telegraph poles along the way 
ceased to flit across the bit of sunlight that lay 
upon the cushioned seat. Now at last the great, 
blazing god seemed to stand gazing full upon me 
as I stepped from the car and threw my arms 
about the woman I adored. 

Beautiful and fair as ever, life had painted on 


204 


Silenced by Gold. 

her face no marks of aught but perfect woman- 
hood. She stood beside me, and proudly I drew 
her to me. The intervening years were the re- 
membrance of a dream, known, yet still unknown. 

She had received my telegram, and was expect- 
ing me. Henry clasped my hand warmly, and 
old Mike looked up at me out of his easy-chair. 

“Why, it’s Charley. He saw me feed ’em and 
he knows they didn’t starve. I’ll give ’em an 
extry ear to-day, an extry ear.” 

The mother, very feeble now, gave way to a flood 
of tears. 

It was a simple, humble home, for Henry and 
Mabel had sacrificed all else to the comfort of the 
poor old man. What a strange sensation came 
over me, to think that I held it in my power to 
restore to them the olden time and make them all 
bright and happy. 

That night as I sat beside Mabel she told me all 
that had happened. I told little, for I felt that 
her love cared not whether I were rich or poor. 
Henry would marry Miss Estes soon. He loved 
her, and only his duty to his parents kept him wait- 
ing. And, as we parted that night, Mabel said : 

“My lover, I have no more fear. You love me 
and our love has been proved as by fire.” 

There was a week of perfect happiness, and then 
one day a telegram came. 


Preparatory. 205 

“Well in. Good for three hundred a day. 
J ack.” 

It wasn’t large, but it meant almost a fortune 
to me. That night I confided the entire truth to 
Henry. He only said: 

“She could love you no more if you were the 
richest man in the world.” 

Fortune and Mabel had come to me together. 
What man was ever so blessed ! I forgot the days 
of waiting, I forgot the long, weary, silent years. 
The present, the present alone was in my thought. 
One day that happy week I sat talking with Henry 
over what I wished to do, how I would surprise 
Mabel, when he said: 

“Do you know, Charley, that I said often and 
often that love was mere selfishness. You once 
told me you did not think so. I refused to believe 
you then, for I knew not the truth. But I have 
had two great proofs, and they are Mabel and 
yourself. Had you known her truly you would 
have known that with you she might have been 
happy even years ago when you were experienc- 
ing reverses. She often said to me that fate was 
cruel, and that she would not encumber you with 
herself even though she loved you. Poor girl, 
when your dream was shattered in the wind that 
time it was a hard blow to her. She showed me 
your despondent letter. 'Henry/ she said, 'per- 


206 Silenced by Gold. 

haps it would be better not to let him work longer 
for an impossible thing. I could live with him in 
poverty and be happy, but I should always feel I 
held him down, and without me he might have 
risen;’ and she wrote to you no more. I saw her 
sorrow, and for a long time said nothing. Then 
I counselled her to write to you, and she did so. 
But no answer came. She said it was best, and 
you would be happier for the separation. I could 
not believe her selfish, for she loved you through 
her tears. Then came your letter to me, two 
weeks ago, and I saw what you were suffering. I 
thought you were still poor, and that at last you 
were yourself and knew that happiness is possible 
even in poverty. I told Mabel to answer the let- 
ter. She thought it compromising herself, but 
knew it would make you happy. Tf he be un- 
happy/ said she, ‘I have no right to think of my- 
self/ and she wrote. I know the result, and it 
has forever shaken my belief in selfishness as the 
supreme guide of the heart.” 

As he closed I felt that never before had I un- 
derstood him so well. I placed my hand on his 
arm, and said: 

“Was there not yet another proof?” 

He looked at me inquiringly. 

“You, too, loved Mabel Gray,” I said. 

“I did,” he answered, “but I have conquered it. 


Preparatory. 207 

And I have found in Miss Estes the companion- 
ship I needed. M'abel is the wife for a man of 
activity like yourself — Miss Estes for a man of 
mental habits like myself.” 

“Henry,” I said, “marry her. Let us put the 
wedding day at a month from now. I must re- 
turn to Milton and make a nest for my bonny 
bird. Then I will return and we will both be mar- 
ried together.” 

And so it was that in another day I went 
rolling back to the East a happy, happy man — 
Mabel to be mine in a month. She knew nothing 
of my fortune. I had told her the telegram was 
from my employer, and that I must finish a well 
before I could be married. She parted from me, 
saying: 

“I will be happy with you, although I may be 
poor.” 

How busy was that month. The farm was now 
my fortune. The farmer removed to another 
house in the neighborhood and entered on the 
prosaic business of running a boarding-house for 
oil men. I had the old house comfortably though 
plainly furnished, and a couple of thoroughbred 
pigs grunted in the sty. 

Meanwhile, for myself, I bought a lovely place 
in Milton, and it was like a dream to me to feel 
that my resources were unlimited. I was so long 


208 


Silenced by Gold. 

accustomed to close living and hard-fisted econ- 
omy, that it was relaxation and life to me to thus 
buy all that would aid to make my darling happy. 
Jack’s wife came down and helped to furnish the 
house. 

I gave the charge of the tools entirely over to 
Jack. He had already removed from my first 
well, and another derrick was rising on the other 
side of the farm. Three great tanks had sprung 
into existence almost in a moment, and already a 
pumper was lying by the boiler which furnished 
power to pump my own and Mr. Cobden’s new 
wells. One day I drove over to the farm, and the 
’Squire accosted me: 

“Say, did you ever clean off that buggy cush- 
ion ?” 

“Clean forgot it, ’Squire,” I answered. “Come 
and see.” 

He came, and together we rode over the lease. 
Four derricks were rising in different parts of the 
field, and it would soon be one of those places 
whose only forests are the braced towers, and whose 
only plow is the drill. Its point runs deep, and 
its result is either vast wealth or boundless misery. 

“My boy,” said the ’Squire, “you are a trump 
hand. I only wish old Mike could once more see 
the farm, and that him and me could talk over 
crops as we used to do. But I suppose he’s as 


Preparatory. 209 

well off out West there where he is, and yet it 
seems hard to think of him dyin' out there so far 
from where he worked and tried to make a livin'.” 

I smiled when I thought of the future, and let 
the 'Squire take his way. He seemed to receive the 
fortune now his as calmly as if he had been expect- 
ing it all his life. 

No one knew of my intentions except Jack and 
his wife. Corning came out one day, and he and 
Jack and I had a long conversation. I was now 
wealthy, or at least would be so in a few months. 
Corning had known me so long that we had become 
close friends. I respected him as a gentleman, 
although he had once tried to buy me. He had not 
succeeded, so he respected me. He offered me a 
share in his leases. I turned to Jack. 

“Jack, what say you to that?” I asked. 

“Well,” said he, “I have nothing to say if you 
think it best, but I should hate to lose my partner. 
We've strung a good many tools together since 
Keller used to hammer our bits for us when we 
didn't do what he said, and I don't fancy the idea 
of losing you.” 

“Now see here,” said Corning, “let's not have 
any flow business just now. You two fellows talk 
this thing over, and if you want to I'll take the 
two of you in, and the tools may answer for Nor- 
ton's share in the company.” 


210 Silenced by Gold. 

And we did talk it over. Before the month 
was ended we had formed a company, and owned 
the leases of all the farms near enough to the tests 
to have the least show of oil. 

Meanwhile, every day I received a letter from 
Mabel, and every day I answered it. She did not 
yet dream of my good fortune, and told me how 
plainly everything was being made ready for the 
marriage, so as to save all she could toward the 
future. 

At the same time I was corresponding with 
Henry. He told how old Mike and Mrs. Ford 
were preparing for removal, thinking he and Miss 
Estes were going to take them along to their new 
home. I had secured Henry a position at Ireton, 
and he too was coming back. Mabel thought her 
uncle and aunt were going with Henry. 

At last the time drew near. As I spread the 
wedding suit out on my bed and looked at it I 
thought of the wet, soaked clothes in which she had 
first seen me. I thought how Jack washed me 
down with the hose, and how she laughed. I 
thought of the long, long nights spent in the 
greasy clothes and the heavy brogans. I thought 
of the clanging machinery, the oily pipes, the 
ditches whose water was unfitted for use, of the 
great iron tanks with their white numbers, of the 
forest of derricks and the frail city of lumber 


Preparatory. 211 

shanties on which my eyes were so long accustomed 
to look. 

1 thought of the cost of that wedding suit, of 
Pankis toiling for his daily bread, and his father 
now lying in his grave, crushed by his love for 
gold ; of Henry and the heartaches he had known ; 
of the unfortunate man buried beneath the falling 
timber; of my own long years of soil and disap- 
pointment; of the dark-browed man clinging to 
the burning rig and saved only to die in the midst 
of the terrible explosion. Surely it had cost 
enough. 

“Thus,” thought I, “one man’s ruin purchases 
happiness for another.” And yet I was happy. 

It was a quiet little wedding. Miss Estes 
looked smiling and beautiful, and my own fair 
bride, attired in her modest wedding gown, was 
happier thus than if she were being married to a 
prince. 

Then came the bustle and hurry of preparation 
for the journey. We two went on to Chicago, 
where we were to await the remainder of the 
party. As we came to bid them good-bye old Mike 
only said as he laid Mabel’s hand in mine : 

“Tell Henry to give ’em two ears extry. Two 
ears extry.” 

And good Mary kissed us both, and blessed us, 


212 


Silenced by Gold. 

and I saw, as I glanced up, that Henry’s eyes were 
filled with tears of joy. 

“I don’t know,” she sobbed, “we may never see 
you again. Henry will take care of us, though, 
and I want to be with Mike, my husband, even if 
we can’t die in the old home, as we would have 
liked.” 

I drew Mabel’s arm through mine and promised 
them I would care for her faithfully and tenderly. 
My beautiful wife was weeping, but I knew her 
tears would be turned to tears of joy. I thought 
she looked at me as though she suspicioned me, as 
though she were trying to think what was the 
meaning of it all. 

Just at the high tide of the day we sat down in 
the train, which was hearing us back to the old 
scene, hut which Mabel thought was to bring to 
her only labor for a living. But how great is the 
strength of a woman’s love. She faltered not in 
placing herself in the position of a poor man’s 
wife, and that man a poor oil driller, when she 
knew she loved him. She said to me : 

“The vision of the cottage that is to be ours is 
sweeter to me, loving you as I do, than a palace 
would be, blessed with every convenience of the 
world, and you not there.” 

The rolling wheels went on. Truly the twilight 


Preparatory. 213 

and the storms were past and the sky was cloud- 
less and bright. 

She wondered at the long delay in Chicago, but 
supposed we were waiting for a train. I left her 
in a hotel, and went to meet Henry at the ap- 
pointed time and place. He was there. 

“They do not suspect,” he said. “Father is 
turned around here and knows nothing of rail- 
roads. Mother trusts fully to me. Take the last 
car when you come, and we will take the front one. 
Then there will be no danger. It will be a com- 
plete surprise to all.” 

It was night when we left. I had seen the 
others go aboard, but Mabel had neither seen nor 
suspected anything. She thought I was taking 
her to Ireton. 

We rode all night, and the morning was just 
dawning when we arrived at Milton. As I as- 
sisted her from the car she looked about. The 
golden sunlight fell over us. My wife looked up 
at me, then at the well-remembered streets and 
buildings; then round to where her uncle was 
standing, himself bewildered by the place, the 
light falling athwart his bowed head and silver 
beard, then back again to my smiling face and ex- 
claimed : 

“Henry, what does this mean ?” 


214 Silenced by Gold. 

I said nothing, but helped her into a carriage. 
The rest followed in another, and in a few minutes 
we stood before the house which was to be our 
home. She thought she understood when she saw 
Jack standing in the door to welcome us and his 
wife smiling beside him. 

“He lives here, and you are bringing us all to 
visit him,” she exclaimed. 

She was utterly bewildered as I led her into the 
parlor, and Jack came and said to her: 

“Welcome home, Mrs. Ford.” 

She took his outstretched hand, and said: 

“So, this is your home, is it?” 

“It is yours,” I cried, and folded her to my 
heart. 

When old Mike walked up the board walk to 
the farm-house next morning, he heard the pigs 
squealing, and walking to the crib gave each an 
ear of corn. He welcomed Mabel and me into the 
sitting-room as though we had been away and 
were coming home. 

“Charley,” he said, “while you were gone they 
struck it. I knowed they would, and I give the 
pigs two ears extry this morning, I did that ” 

He had never been away from this one house 
all these years, for his heart had clung to it, and 
now he need never leave it any more. Mary bent 


Preparatory. 215 

and kissed him as he sat beside her, and mur- 
mured : 

“We’ll get to die on the old homestead after all, 
Mike.” 























































* ! 



































- 

. 







' 























































NOV 4 1902 





